Fortune Plango Vulnera
by Sister Golden-Hair Surprise
Summary: SSOC. Snape meets an OC who is neither teacher nor student. Started pre-OOP, so now an AU fic! Adventure, romance, angst, lust, horror and humor. Updated! New chapter!
1. Default Chapter

Author's Notes: Fortune plango vulnera: I weep for the wounds of luck. Taken from Carl Orff's "Carmina Burana".  
  
"I weep for the wounds of luck, with brimming eyes, because her gifts to me she rebelliously takes away."  
  
A multi-chapter story that has a little bit of everything. Angst, drama, violence, romance, lust, action, and even a little humor. Snape/OC. Snape meets an enigmatic woman with a complicated past. And she's neither a professor, nor young enough to be his child! There's sexual tension from the start, and fate draws them together for some serious adventure and plot twists set during the summer and fall following GOF. Will he get the girl in the end? If only it were so easy for our much abused, but beloved, Potions master. The infamous "student trio" makes an appearance, but have their own troubles to deal with. Mary Sue? Maybe her older, more human sister. First creative writing in over a decade, not to mention first ever fanfic. Please take into account author's woeful lack of experience when reviewing. Enjoy!  
  
Disclaimer: If you recognize it from any of the books, then it belongs to J.K. Rowling. The rest is pulled from my twisted little psyche.  
  
Rating: R, for language, violence, and sexual content. (Yes boys and girls, Snape gets some!)  
  
Chapter 1: Dog Days Of Summer  
  
It was shaping up to be a beautiful midsummer's afternoon. The grounds of Hogwarts School of witchcraft and wizardry bloomed with a riot of colorful flowers, both magical and common. Professor Sprout hummed merrily to herself as she tended her garden of magical plants. Hagrid sat on the steps of his little hut, whittling a stick and keeping an eye on his boarhound, Fang, who was romping and chasing after squirrels. Even headmaster Dumbledore was standing at his open window, a bag of candy in hand, looking out at the sunbeams dancing and glistening on the surface of the lake.  
  
It seemed as if all of the school faculty present during the summer holidays were relishing the sunshine and fresh air. All except for one... Deep in the basement dungeons, there was one room that was not bathed in warm rays of light. The only light came from small glowing fires burning under a row of cauldrons, a massive black iron chandelier, and a candle burning on a black marble workbench where a dark robed figure stood hunched over a mortar and pestle, carefully grinding dried wormwood into a fine powder.  
  
Professor Severus Snape did not notice the folded piece of parchment slide under the laboratory door. He was deep in concentration, working on a new potion to make the user resistant to the effects of Veritaserum. The powerful "truth potion", which could be used to uncover valuable secrets by the followers of the Dark Lord. While most people were caught up in the long dreamy days of summer, Snape could not forget the events of the previous term. Tragedy had befallen the school, and the wizarding world was rocked by the gathering of followers of evil and the reawakening of their master. He also worked with a fervor spawned by fears of his own mortality. Snape wanted to get as much work done in as short of a time as possible because his life as a double agent, treading the razor's edge between good and evil, meant he was a man of numbered days.  
  
His days on Earth had nearly come to an end at the beginning of summer, when he was summoned to Voldemort to account for the rumors and suspicions of betrayal that had been raised following his actions during the previous school term. He was not executed on sight, but allowed to live and strive to regain his master's trust through humble service. If he were to survive his punishment, that is. His punishment consisted of having the unbearably painful Cruciatus curse placed upon him by each and every other Death Eater present at the summoning.  
  
More than once during that hellish half hour, he felt himself start to slip away into death's cold grip, but the hatred he felt for his former Lord and master burned with a fierceness that rivaled even the mind shattering agony of the curse. It was not the first time he had been tortured at the hands of Voldemort or his followers, but it left him profoundly and permanently changed. After a week in recovery, where his clung to his sanity and intellect by a precarious thread, he resumed his work with a motivation that bordered on mania. Headmaster Dumbledore was extremely concerned and kept a watchful and nurturing eye on him to make sure he didn't burn out from overwork.  
  
The wormwood ground finely enough, the potions master divided it evenly into the bubbling cauldrons, and decided to call it a day and get a bite to eat, as the potion would have to simmer until the next morning to reach it's full potency. He approached the dungeon door, and spied the folded piece of parchment on the floor. He picked it up, pocketed it, and headed towards the smaller faculty dining hall that the teachers and staff who remained at the school year round used for informal meals. It was too early for supper, but as he had worked straight through lunchtime, he rang for a house elf and ordered a bowl of soup and an assortment of fruit and cheeses served with a hearty slice of bread. His meal appeared on the table within seconds of the elf's departure.  
  
He scarcely tasted his food, his attention held by the story of the Death Eater attack on the general store in Diagon Alley in the Daily Prophet. Death Eaters had demolished a shop that stocked various muggle items on their shelves alongside more common magical merchandise. "Damn they're getting bold." He thought to himself. Not only was this attack carried out in broad daylight, but also it was carried out against a wizard family owned business. "It's escalating," he thought. "This is only the beginning".  
  
His empty bowl and plate disappeared as soon as he finished his meal. He decided to check his pocket watch and see just how much longer the potion had left to simmer. As he pulled the watch from his robe pocket, the piece of parchment caught on his hand and fluttered to the ground. Curious, he picked it up off the floor and unfolded it. It was a memo from the headmaster. It read: "I hope the soup was savory and filling, please join me for tea in my office as soon as you are through." "Damn!" said Snape, who wanted nothing more than to return to his dungeon chambers and spend the evening deep in a good book.  
  
He stuffed the parchment and watch back into his pocket, and stalked off down the corridors to the headmaster's chambers. Just as he was finishing the climb up the stairs, the door opened and Headmaster Dumbledore greeted him with an impish smile. "Do come in Severus, and sit down. I have tea and ginger biscuits on the table." The professor stepped warily into the room, suspicious at why he had been summoned to the headmaster's office. Surely not to exchange pleasantries over a cup of tea and a cookie? He sat down, and Dumbledore poured him a cup of tea. "Sugar or honey?" "Neither headmaster, can we dispense with the pleasantries and get to the point of this little meeting, I have a very complex potion brewing and I need to be there in case there is a problem".  
  
"Well Severus, I am crushed... I thought ginger biscuits were your favorite." Said Dumbledore with a twinkle in his eye. The potions master shot back with a glare that would send a first year student scurrying down the hall. "Albus, please. I have more pressing things on my mind than a tea party right now; or have you not read the Daily Prophet this afternoon?"  
  
"All right, all right, I see your point, no need to get upset. However, we must discuss the issue of the new faculty formal robes. I have the list on my desk, and you are the only member of the faculty who has not yet been measured. It is near the middle of July and it takes time to have the robes made. They are not magicked up out of thin air you know."  
  
Snape rolled his eyes and sighed. "Headmaster, be reasonable. I don't have the time to deal with this foolishness. Can't you have one of the house elves take one of my old robes and copy the measurements on a scroll and owl them over to the tailor shop? Is this really necessary?"  
  
"I have been very patient with you Severus. I realize that your time is very valuable these days, but the measurements must be taken at the tailor shop in Hogsmeade. It will only take a little while. Besides, it will do you good to get out of the school for an afternoon. I must insist Severus that you take care of this by the end of the week. You may not see the importance of it, but it is something that the entire faculty has had to do, you are not an exception".  
  
"Very well. I need to go to town and check on a special order from the apothecary anyway, I'll take care of it tomorrow afternoon".  
  
"Good. I knew you would be able to find the time. That will be all, but are you sure you don't want a cookie for the walk back to the dungeons?"  
  
"No thank you headmaster, I would not". With that, Snape stood up and quickly exited the room, shutting the door a little harder than necessary on the way out. Dumbledore chuckled to himself as he picked a ginger biscuit off of the tea tray and bit into it. 


	2. A Chance Encounter Sets the Wheels of Fa...

Author's Notes: Mirabelle is physically modeled on a professional belly dancer I once knew. Picture a tall woman who's built like a Victorian pinup, moves like liquid silk, but who dresses like a slightly disheveled librarian. Make her a non-conformist and somewhat of a loner. And give her a touch of impulsiveness and a complicated past just for kicks.  
  
Disclaimer: If you recognize it, it ain't mine...  
  
Rating: R for language, violence, some sexual situations.  
  
Chapter 2: A Chance Encounter Sets the Wheels Of Fate Into Motion.  
  
Snape knew there was no way around the trip to Hogsmeade. Once Dumbledore set his mind on a task, no matter how foolish and frivolous, he made sure that it was carried out. Snape finished bottling the antiveritaserum potion he had started brewing the day before. He locked the small vials away in an ornately carved cabinet with intertwined snakes on the doors, and cast several protection wards and charms on it. He grabbed his summer cloak off of a wall peg near the door, and headed up the stairs into the daylight.  
  
As he rounded the corner of the castle, he nearly bumped into professor Sprout. "Glorious day, isn't it Severus?"  
  
Snape stopped in his tracks, looked down at the rosy-cheeked witch, and said: "NO! No it is not glorious... this sunshine is a veritable assault upon the eyes. And just think, there are muggles who are lying on beaches at this very moment, frying their skin in tropical oils, oblivious to the fiery inferno burning over their heads".  
  
Sprout struggled to contain herself, enjoying an inward smirk at the mental image of Snape, his pasty pale body lying out on a beach blanket with white sun cream on his nose. "Good thing he can't read minds" she thought. "Well then, I shan't be keeping you, I am sure you are very eager to get where you are going, and out of this assault upon the eyes". Snape shot her an evil glare and continued on to the carriage house.  
  
The horseless carriage came to a stop just behind the train station, and he set out for the main shopping street of the town of Hogsmeade. After reducing the counter clerk in the apothecary to a quivering mass of nerves over the backordered potion ingredients he was waiting on, he decided to find the tailor shop and just get it over with so that Albus would get off of his back about the bloody faculty robe.  
  
He fished the original memo out of his pocket, the one that had been sent to all the professors soon after the spring term ended, listing the name and address of the tailor shop. "Treadle's Tailor Shoppe. Hmmm...Treadle. Name sounds familiar. Didn't I have a girl named Treadle in my first year class last term? Must be her family. She's a Hufflepuff. One of the flighty and giggly ones, a complete little pain in the ass".  
  
Snape walked through the village to the shop, hoping that he did not have to deal with that unnerving giggle this afternoon. "Maybe she doesn't work in the shop over the summer, maybe she goes off to camp or something..." He arrived at the shop and peered in through the display window. "Damn! No such luck, there's the little brat herself".  
  
Tricia Treadle sat on a stool behind the counter, chewing muggle bubblegum, and browsing through a Quidditch magazine, trying to decide which semi-pro team had the cutest seeker when the door chimes jingled and she looked up.  
  
"OH SHIT!" She thought. She almost choked on her gum when she saw who was coming through the door. "What is HE doing here, I can't be in trouble, and school hasn't even started yet!" Then she remembered that all the Hogwarts professors had come into the shop over the summer to be measured for the new academic robes Headmaster Dumbledore had ordered for them. Her stomach went queasy when he looked over at the counter and spotted her.  
  
"Well, well, if it isn't Miss Treadle. And I trust you are spending your summer holidays in a constructive manner? Reviewing your first year notes so that everything I taught you last year won't have seeped out of your brain by the time school starts again?"  
  
"Y-yessir, professor sir. I'm studying really hard".  
  
Snape glanced down at the Quidditch magazine and sneered. "I'm sure you are Miss Treadle, I'm sure you are." "But pleasant as our little chat might be, I did not drop by for a social call, I'm here for the robe fitting that the headmaster has arranged. I'm very short on time, so can we please get this taken care of as quickly as possible".  
  
"Uh, aah, j-just a second professor, let me go get my aunt, she's taking care of the Hogwarts account". Tricia ran behind a curtain separating the sales floor from the back room. "Aunt Belle! Aunt Belle! It's one of the professors from school to get measured for robes!"  
  
Aunt Belle, more formally known as Mirabelle, looked up from a stack of paperwork and tossed a measuring tape to her niece. "You can do it, the measurements are all listed on the order form, and you've watched me do it a dozen times now. I'm really swamped with invoices here."  
  
"Noooo, Auntie Belle, you don't understand, it's professor Snape!"  
  
"What's the big deal about Professor Snape? Is he a goblin or something?"  
  
Tricia looked at the woman and whined. "Noooooooo, Aunt Belle. He hates me! I had to serve detention in his class six times last year!"  
  
"Aaah, so that's the problem. He's a strict teacher and you goofed off in his class so he punished you. Good lord girl, it's summertime! He's not a teacher, he's a customer, and you can handle him".  
  
"Oh, Auntie Belle Pleeeeease don't make me do it".  
  
Belle rolled her eyes at the girl. "Oh all right. Damn you can be a real brat sometimes. Let me file these papers away, and I'll get the measurements. But you have to write them down."  
  
"Okay auntie Belle, thanks bunches, you're a lifesaver!"  
  
Snape turned around and scanned the shop. It was small but well stocked; they specialized in custom-made formal robes and carried a small selection of fine merchandise. There were some elaborate dress robes on display in the window. One wall consisted of a display unit of fine robes with a shelf of hats above them. The opposite side wall had a large mirror and fitting platform next to a small bench and an elaborate wrought iron coat rack. The counter opposite the doorway had two sections. There was a low section with an ornate cash register at hip level, and a higher part where there were various accessory items on display. Wand sheaths, small pouches, brooches, and a display of what looked like potions of some sort.  
  
The tiny bottles caught Snapes eye and he started over to take a closer look when the girl came out of the back room. "Aunt Belle will be out in just a second to get your measurements professor Snape, if you'd like to hang your cloak and robe on the rack by the platform..." Snape shot her a withering glare, and went to hang his outer clothes on the rack, waiting impatiently for this Aunt Belle woman to come out and do her job.  
  
Mirabelle sighed, put the papers back in the folder, and filed them away. She picked up a quill and the order form for the professor's robes, grabbed a tape measure and headed to the front of the store. She laid the paper and quill down on the counter, and motioned for her niece to stand to take measurements. The girl sheepishly crept over and picked up the quill. Mirabelle rolled her eyes again and turned towards her customer.  
  
The professor was in the corner, hanging up his robe. A tall man with long dark messy hair and plainly cut dark clothes. He was in his forties, with pale sallow skin, sharp features, and a lean but strong physique. Something about him piqued her interest as she crossed the floor to the fitting area.  
  
"Professor Snape?" She asked. He whirled around, caught off guard by her silent approach.  
  
Nobody sneaked up on Severus Snape! He found himself almost eye to eye with "Aunt Belle" and she was certainly NOT what he had expected. First of all, she was dressed like a muggle. She had on a long flowing skirt and a button closure sweater. Her hair was a riot of curls, the color falling somewhere between brunette and auburn. She had it piled up on her head haphazardly with a pencil and what appeared to be a short wand tucked into the knot. But her eyes were what drew his attention. They were blue. Not a brilliant turquoise blue, but a grayed down stormy blue. And her direct gaze seemed to see straight into his psyche.  
  
A smattering of fine lines around her eyes told him that she was certainly not "Old Auntie Belle" but she was not a schoolgirl either, probably in her mid to late thirties, but who knows with some of the age defying charms that some witches of a certain age were known to cast upon themselves. Snape quickly looked her up and down with a critical eye. She was tall, but not quite as tall as him. His first impression of her was that she was plump, but not really. She looked like the women in old-fashioned pinup posters. Curvy when the fashion called for willowy. She was not at all the type of woman he generally found attractive, and yet he found his eyes lingering on her.  
  
She was certainly no great beauty, but her appearance was striking nonetheless. And she smelled good. "What is that smell?" He knew it from his potions lab. Cinnamon? Sandalwood? Amber? It was something sweet and spicy. And what was that accent she spoke with? Not British. But he couldn't quite place it.  
  
He regained his usual curt composure and replied: "Yes. I'm Professor Snape, can we please get this over and done with. I am very short on time, and need to return to the school as quickly as possible".  
  
Mirabelle smiled at him, "Certainly professor, if you would please step up on the platform, we'll get the measurements taken as quickly as possible".  
  
Mirabelle looked over at Tricia. "Tricia! I'll call out the measurements, you write them on the form. Ready?"  
  
"Yes m'aam" squeaked her niece from the far end of the corner.  
  
Mirabelle rolled her eyes and turned back to the professor. "Great..." she thought. "That's all I need. A professor with a pole up his ass and a niece who's trying her best to crawl under the counter. Let's get this done so I can get back to work".  
  
"Okay professor, I need for you to stand up very straight for me". Snape let out an exasperated sigh, and Mirabelle felt her face flush with frustration. She took a good look at him. "What an asshole, I'm SO not in the mood for this shit today." She vented silently to herself. "Well professor Snape, you have picked the wrong day to give me an attitude." "Okay, professor, I saw that you are a household head on your order form, that means your robe will have a special emblem on the back, I'll need to take a couple of extra measurements".  
  
"Oh lucky me." Snape said, dripping sarcasm.  
  
Mirabelle stepped up on the platform beside him, and told him that she would be getting several measurements, starting with the shoulder span. She moved around behind him and pulled her magical tape measure out of her pocket. Being a magical and not a common muggle tape measure, all that the user needed to do was place the spool case against the customer, and it would remain there while tape was pulled out to get the measurement.  
  
She called out to her niece "Shoulder span, 16.5 inches" "Damn, he's got a strong back" she thought. Snape clucked his tongue and slouched, hoping that none of his students would pass by and see him through the window, on a pedestal being measured and fitted.  
  
"Now the back length for your house emblem professor. Please stand straight and still, this measurement is very important". Snape shifted his weight and slouched even more. "What a bastard!" Mirabelle thought. She placed the tape measure at the middle of the back of his neck. In an inspired act of mischief, she stuck her thumb out and traced the nail down the center of his spine as she pulled the tape out to his waist.  
  
Snape let out a small gasp and stood ramrod straight.  
  
"Heh! How's that asshole?" She said to herself as she called the measurement out to her niece. "Let's see how the bastard likes a taste of his own potion, so to speak" she inwardly smirked.  
  
Tricia saw what her aunt Belle did. Her eyes got big as saucers and she looked down quickly at the order form. "Oh please no, don't let Belle get professor Snape even more angry at me." She whispered under her breath.  
  
"That muggleish cow!" thought Snape. "She did that on purpose!"  
  
Mirabelle moved around to face the professor, not even a trace of a smirk on her face, and asked him to please hold up his hair, as she needed to measure his neck for the robe collar. He rolled his eyes and gathered his unkempt black hair up into his hand. She leaned in to measure his neck and got a face full of his personal fragrance. She inhaled again. He smelled of unwashed hair, smoke, and a mixture of residual aromas from the potions lab. Pungent, but she couldn't help but lean in for another whiff. She realized that she liked the way he smelled.  
  
Tricia noticed her aunt lean in and it looked like she actually "sniffed" professor Snape. Tricia had never wanted to get close enough to smell him, as the lab carried a ripe enough fragrance of it's own. She was totally grossed out and kept her face down and her quill on the parchment.  
  
"Okay, now the sleeves, please hold your arm straight out from your side professor." Mirabelle took the opportunity to check out Snape's arm muscles "Nice" she thought, checking out his lean but well built body. "Okay professor, the last measurement will be from your shoulder to the top of your shoe in the front to get the proper length".  
  
Mirabelle placed the tape measure against Snape's shoulder and slowly kneeled down in front of him, until the tape was even with the top of his shoe. "Professor, is this good?" she said from around knee level.  
  
Snape looked down and didn't see the edge of the measuring tape; instead he was looking down the front of a V-neck sweater at her rather abundant cleavage. "Yes, quite nice" said Snape in a distracted tone, and Mirabelle just smiled like the cat that got the cream.  
  
"Oh my God!... My aunt is flirting with professor Snape! What the HELL is she DOING!" thought Tricia as she wrote down the last measurement.  
  
"That's all Tricia, you may be excused" said Mirabelle, and Tricia disappeared behind the curtain into the back of the shop in a flash.  
  
"Well professor Snape, that wasn't so bad now, was it? Here, let me help you into your robe and cloak". Mirabelle helped him into his over clothes, pressing her chest against his arm when she reached over to fasten his cloak clasp. She felt a definite tingle from the unexpected touch.  
  
"So, the robe will be delivered to Hogwarts via owl?"  
  
"Oh no", replied Mirabelle. "The measurements will be owled out to the workshop where the tailor elves make the robes. When the robe comes back to the store in two weeks, you will need to come in for a final fitting in case there are any alterations or adjustments to be made. We're just finishing up most of the other professors' robes right now. You'll get an owl letting you know when to come in."  
  
"Can't this be handled without another trip into town?" snarled Snape.  
  
"I'm afraid not professor. I have to check the fit myself and make any final adjustments by hand. It has to be done to get a proper fit".  
  
"Are you sure you can't just owl the robe to me and one of the Hogwarts house elves can do any necessary adjustments?"  
  
"I don't know professor, I suppose I could send an owl to the headmaster to see if he minds."  
  
"No, no, that won't be necessary, I'll find the time in my schedule to pick up the robe in person". Snape knew that if word reached the headmaster that he was being difficult, Dumbledore would be very cross with him.  
  
"Well then professor, thank you for your time, and we shall see you in approximately two weeks". Mirabelle escorted a scowling professor Snape to the door and gave him a sweet smile as he exited the store.  
  
As soon as the door closed behind him, Tricia came storming out of the back room. "Oh my GOD Aunt Belle, what were you thinking? That's professor SNAPE! He's the meanest teacher at Hogwarts, a real bastard!"  
  
"Watch your language sweetie, and while he may be a total and complete bastard, he's kinda sexy...in a dark and intense sort of way, dont'cha think?" Asked Mirabelle with a wicked smirk.  
  
"NO! He is nothing close to sexy Aunt Belle, are you out of your MIND!"  
  
"Hey, little girl, just because he's not blonde and blue eyed like your little post adolescent Quidditch heartthrobs, doesn't mean he hasn't got a certain appeal". Tricia looked at her aunt, horrified. "When you're older, closer to your old auntie's age, you'll see that sexy is not necessarily a cute face and buff body. Some men who you would never think to look at twice possess sex appeal. And, your professor Snape positively oozes with it. Too bad he's such a jerk."  
  
"Oh God", thought Tricia. "My aunt fancies Professor Snape!" "At least I won't be here when he comes to get his robe, she'll have him all to herself while Mom, Dad, and I are off on holiday. Oh well, if they start dating, maybe he'll give me good marks in Potions class." 


	3. Tension and Chemistry Make for a Volatil...

Author's Notes: In this chapter, we get a teaser of Mira's story. And Snape gets a teaser of something else of Mira's.  
  
Disclaimer: If you recognize it from the books, then it doesn't belong to me. I just borrowed it to toy with for a while.  
  
Chapter 3: Tension and chemistry make for a volatile potion.  
  
Mirabelle was atop a short stepladder, replacing several of the hats on the display shelves, and grumbling to herself in a low voice: "Damn that Narcissa Malfoy and her stuck up friend. Coming into the shop an hour before closing to try on hats, and then not buying a thing. Like I have nothing better to do than wait hand and foot on them and deal with that little shit son of Narcissa's, making snide comments about my lack of robes while waiting on customers and trying to trip me. I can afford robes on my salary, however I choose not to wear them in the shop because they're a pain in the ass to climb up and down ladders and take measurements in. What's the problem with some of these wizarding families? You'd think they were afraid of anything muggle or something?" Mirabelle fumed over the rudeness of her previous customers while she levitated another hat off the counter and onto the shelf in front of her with her wand, and started artfully fluffing the plumes. She didn't see the dark robed man approach the store and stop in front of the window, peering in curiously.  
  
Snape wanted to get the robe and get the hell home. He had been delayed near the train station by the father of a student who wanted to discuss the possibility of private tutoring lessons for his daughter, so that she could learn about potions that were not even legal to brew, much less appropriate for a teenage girl to be dabbling around with. Snape knew the man; he'd been sniffing around some of the local Death Eater hangouts, trying to find out how to get involved in the growing movement. Snape brushed them off by saying he was not allowed to tutor his students out of class, as it would be a conflict of interest when it came time to give out grades. But, if they went to the apothecary supply in Knockturn Alley, there was a notice board where they could post a notice to find a suitable tutor for their child.  
  
He swept down the sidewalk with a scowl on his face. He approached the tailor shop, and something inside caught his eye and he paused at the large display window. It was that woman, "Belle", on a stepladder facing the wall. The airhead niece was nowhere to be seen. "Good" thought Snape, "hopefully this won't take long then. The muggle looking aunt at least seems to know what she's doing". Severus entered the door, and walked to the counter.  
  
"Be with you in just a second!"  
  
Snape crossed his arms over his chest, what little patience he had left was fading fast. He looked over at her, and found himself staring at her backside. But how could he miss it. She was on a stepladder, with one foot on the top and one foot on a lower rung, wearing a skirt made out of some kind of soft material that was stretched tautly over her hips. His eyes drifted down and he realized that the split in the back of her skirt was pulled open and he could see the back of her knee and her thigh disappearing into shadow. If he just took a step closer and looked just so, maybe he could see her... "What the HELL are you thinking? Looking up women's' skirts like some kind of perverted voyeur!" Snape silently scolded himself. But he was captivated by the sight, and started to feel a pleasant kind of warmth flowing through his body from imagining just what kind of muggle undergarments she wore under that skirt. Mirabelle stepped back down off the ladder, tucked her wand into a haphazardly arranged twist of hair on the back of her head, and turned to face him.  
  
"Oh, professor Snape! I was beginning to wonder if you received the owl notice about your robe. Let me go back to the stockroom and get it for you. You can put your robe and cloak on the rack and wait by the mirror, I'll be right back".  
  
Snape hung his robe and cloak on the rack, and walked over to the counter to get a closer look at the fancy little bottles he had noticed the first time he had been in the shop. There was a glass tray with several ornately decorated little vials of pale liquid. He picked one up, uncapped it, and took a sniff. "Roses" he thought. And another one marked "Amber". Then he realized just what kind of "potions" they were, it was a display of perfume. Just as he was setting the vial of "Eau de Moonflower" down, Mirabelle walked out from the back carrying a large box and saw Snape at the counter display.  
  
"Oh, we just have ladies' fragrances right now, but if you wish, I can blend up something masculine for you, what do you prefer? Woodsy, spicy, or herbal?"  
  
"Nothing, I was simply curious as to what they were," said Snape curtly.  
  
"All right then" said Mirabelle. " Here's the robe, so why don't you step up on the platform so we can check the fit".  
  
She opened the box and removed a large black robe with elaborate embellishment. The sleeves, hem, and neckline were all edged with a thin silver braid. There was a Hogwarts crest embroidered on the front yoke of the robe, and on the back, there was a kind of a cowl hanging down with a large Slytherin house crest embroidered in the center of it. "Nice" thought Snape. What he saw was a tasteful example of an academic dress robe. Snape could wear it in the presence of his students and co-workers without feeling ridiculous.  
  
He took the heavy robe from Mirabelle, slipped it on over his head, and turned to the mirror, adjusting the sleeves. It suited him. Heavy but richly supple black fabric, which fell in perfect folds from his shoulders to the top of his shoes. The high-necked collar accentuated his sharp features and slender neck. There were two simple silver clasps at the neckline for a closure. "Elegant" he thought, feeling very relieved that Dumbledore had not chosen some flashy and ostentatious design for the robes. He turned in the mirror, admiring the robes from several angles.  
  
"It certainly suits you professor," noted Mirabelle.  
  
"Yes, I must say it does," replied Snape with a haughty smirk, admiring himself in the mirror.  
  
Mirabelle slowly walked around the little pedestal in front of the mirror, checking every detail of the robe. The fit was very good, he wore robes well, but there was a minor problem with the hem at the bottom. "Hmmm... The hem of the robe needs to be straightened on the left side, let me make some markings, and I will fix it right up for you".  
  
"No, that's not necessary. I'm sure the school's house elves can manage a simple task like hemming a robe. Please, if you could just box it up, I can take it with me now".  
  
"Okay professor. I hate to let a robe leave the shop that has any problems, but you're right, the house elves can certainly manage it. Why don't you change back into your robe and I'll box it up for you".  
  
Snape unclasped the neckline of the dress robe, and pulled it off over his head. Underneath his robes, he wore rather old fashioned looking muggle attire. Black button front trousers, a pale gray shirt with a tiny pleated frill at the neckline and wrists, and a fitted black tunic jacket with a high neck that closed with loops and buttons. Mirabelle watched him curiously, wondering why so many wizards and witches clung to older, archaic types of clothing if they wore any other clothing at all under their robes. She supposed that they were from old wizarding families who were so many generations removed from the muggle world that they had no idea what the current fashions were. There were a lot of things that Mirabelle didn't understand about the English wizarding community, and she felt that she never would, or even could understand fully their way of life.  
  
He handed the robe to Mirabelle and began pulling on his over robe. She carefully folded and wrapped the new academic robe in tissue before placing it in a large cardboard box with the Treadle's Tailors logo printed on it. The logo was slowly moving across the surface of the box while fading from color to color. She handed the professor his package, and he performed a simple reduction charm on it and tucked it away in his robe pocket. She took his summer cloak off of the rack and held it out to him as he finished hooking the clasps on his simple black day robe.  
  
"Please send the headmaster my greetings. Oh, and if Tricia gives you too much trouble in class this fall, please don't hesitate to send me an owl. She listens to me more than she listens to her own parents."  
  
"Curious " thought Snape, remembering all the howlers and owls sent to Tricia's parents last term regarding her behavior. "Did they even read them?" He wondered. "Yes, Tricia does have problems in class, please make sure she understands that I was rather lenient with her last year because she was a first year student, but from now on, I will expect a higher standard of performance and behavior from her."  
  
"I'll have a talk with her professor. Let me walk you to the door, its closing time. I need to change the sign and lock the door". Mirabelle motioned to the door, and held it open for Snape. She watched him head quickly towards the train station, and she flipped the sign from OPEN to CLOSED and locked the door, casting the usual protection charms on it before climbing the staircase in the back room to her tiny apartment over the store. "What an interesting man" she thought. "Too bad he has to be such an asshole".  
  
Snape managed to make it back to the carriage behind the train station without delay. He lost himself in thought on the brief ride back to the castle. His usual surly and curt personality was especially acidic lately because of the additional stress of working as a spy for two masters, pledging true loyalty to only one. He didn't know that he was being spied upon himself, by a fellow Death Eater, sent by Voldemort to observe and report on his movements outside of the school. Had he not been distracted by his thoughts, he would have noticed the cloaked man sitting at a table at the cafe' across the street from the tailor shop get up and follow him to the carriage depot.  
  
It was early in the morning, towards the middle of August. Professor Snape was at his desk working on translating an ancient potions manual from Latin to English, when there was a soft knock at the door. "Come in, this had better be worth disturbing my work." He said without looking up from his books.  
  
The heavy door creaked open, and headmaster Dumbledore walked into the potions classroom. "Headmaster, my apologies. Do come have a seat, I'm just finishing a page in this translation, I'll be right with you". Headmaster Dumbledore wandered over to the student's supply cabinet, peering into bottles and jars of exotic and bizarre ingredients. He wandered back over to the potion master's desk just as Snape was putting his quill away. Snape pushed back his chair to stand, and the older man said "No, please don't stand, this won't take a second".  
  
"Severus, I know that I do not have to tell you that I am growing increasingly concerned at the boldness and violence of the attacks upon muggle born people in Hogsmeade. I have an assignment for you, and it is of the utmost importance."  
  
Snape had been on many missions for the headmaster over the past few months, but he could tell that this was something of particular importance, and he gave Dumbledore his full attention.  
  
"As you know, it is nearing the end of summer. Traditionally the town of Hogsmeade has a large end of summer celebration. Some of the people in the ministry feel that it should be cancelled due to the ever-growing threat of violence from the Death Eaters and other followers of Voldemort. However, the mayor of the city and I both feel that it is important for the townspeople to have this celebration to lift their spirits a little. It will be good for the community, and good for morale. I need you to keep your ears and eyes open and alert me if you hear of any plans for an attack during the festival. Most of the townsfolk will be gathered in the town square that evening, and the ministry has reported some unsubstantiated warnings that there will be a major Death Eater attack somewhere in town that evening. I will also need for you to go undercover during the festival, and keep an eye on things in the town square and alert me at once if you see any Death Eaters gathering."  
  
"Yes Albus, I understand. I will keep my eyes and ears open and report back to you as soon as I hear something. I have not been summoned with the dark mark in weeks, but I'll go into town and spend some time in the pub, just in case anybody starts talking out of turn after a few pints of ale."  
  
"Thank you Severus, I know that your work here at the school is extremely valuable to us, but right now I need you to be my eyes and ears in town. If you need anything at all, please, do not hesitate to ask. I will make sure that all the resources of the ministry are at your disposal."  
  
After the headmaster left, Snape worked on his translation a little more, then put his books and quills away and straightened up his desk. He then retired to his private quarters to prepare for an evening of espionage.  
  
Snape lived in a small suite of rooms directly behind the potions lab. He placed his hand on the stone wall behind the largest workbench, and a plain door appeared. He traced an intricate symbol on the door with his wand, and the door dissolved away, allowing him to enter his chambers. The main room was a sitting area with a fireplace, a single wing back chair with footstool, several bookshelves, a curio cabinet filled with obscure and exotic magical devices, and a small table with a plain high backed chair where the professor took his afternoon tea between classes. The room was not quite Spartan, but not in any way "homey". He crossed in front of the fireplace and through an arched doorway that led into his bedchamber. Inside this room was a large four-poster bed, hung with heavy dark green draperies. Across from the bed was a smaller fireplace. To one side of it was a large ornate armoire, carved with the same motif as the bed frame. A dressing mirror and small bedside table and cushioned chair were the only other furnishings in this room. On the other side, was a door that led into a rather spacious and well-appointed bathroom. There were no family portraits in any of the rooms. The only piece of artwork was a large landscape painting in the bedroom, a dark stone castle in a clearing, with clouds floating in front of the moon and firelight flickering in the windows. His family's ancestral home. There were scattered heavy wrought iron candle sconces throughout the rooms, and a pair of torch holders flanking a shield bearing his family coat of arms above the sitting room fireplace. Overall, there was not much of a personal touch anywhere in his chambers. The professor's quarters were meticulously clean and orderly. He was a man who insisted on having things a certain way, and only the most experienced and responsible house elves at Hogwarts were assigned to keeping his quarters neat and tidy.  
  
Snape stopped in front of a large mirror on a pedestal just outside his bathroom and studied his reflection in the firelight. He was starting to show his age and the stress of life as a double agent. Maybe some sun would do him good, and then maybe again there were more important things on his mind than a radiant complexion. He absentmindedly unclasped his cloak and unbuttoned his robe, laying them across the bed. He sunk wearily into the chair in the corner and summoned a house elf before dozing off from exhaustion. He awoke a half hour later to find his bath drawn, his cloak freshly pressed, and fresh clothes from his armoire laid out on the bed for him. There was even a hot cup of tea steaming on the bedside table.  
  
"Aaah, the mark of a well trained house-elf... efficiency and invisibility." He picked up the cup of tea, took it into the bathroom, undressed, and slowly lowered himself into the steaming fragrant water. He let his mind drift and relished in the warmth he felt permeating his body from both inside and out through the tea and bath. After a good long soak, he exited the bath, dried himself, and ran a comb through his damp hair. He inspected the clothes laid out by the house-elf and sniffed an indifferent approval at the selection.  
  
Not a flashy dresser, Snape preferred the darker side of the spectrum and his wardrobe was almost exclusively made up of black robes and cloaks with black tunics and trousers, worn with white or pale gray shirts. He was not a man who enjoyed excessive embellishment or decoration on his clothes. He preferred clean lines, simple button or clasp closures, and only the most minor decorative elements like narrow frills at the wrists and collars of his shirts and pleats and tucks on his tunics. His formal dress robes were the most highly decorative items of clothing that he owned, and they were quite understated by the standards that most wizards followed regarding dress. He preferred not to wear a hat or cap, and his unkempt long hair was the only part of his appearance that was not restrained and sharp. He dressed quickly, took a quick look in the mirror to make sure that everything met his discriminating standards. Satisfied in his appearance, Snape pulled on his cloak and proceeded out of his chambers, through the potions dungeon and up the stairs into the warm night air. Being on a clandestine mission to gather information in town, he pulled up his hood, and walked to the edge of the Hogwarts grounds. He apparated to a spot beneath the bridge that crosses the stream on the edge of the village. He quickly looked back and forth to see if he had been spotted, and seeing that the coast was clear, he headed quickly to the Hog's Head tavern, keeping in the shadows and avoiding the crowds. He took a booth in the back of the main seating area, and ordered a mug of ale. 


	4. Reminders of a Past Life

Author's Notes: We see the stress of life as a double agent beginning to take its toll on our beloved Potions master. A short angsty chapter, with a brief appearance of our mystery woman, Mira. (The story's just getting started, many chapters ready to be posted, and a few still left to write.)  
  
Disclaimer: If you recognize it from the books, then it's in no way mine. (As Mira pats me on the hand and says: "There there dear, at least you've still got me.")  
  
Chapter 4: Reminders of a past life.  
  
The tavern was busy, but not as crowded as it usually was. People were edgy and sticking close to home in the evenings since the attacks had begun to intensify. Most of the customers were shopkeepers and other locals. The Hog's Head tavern attracted a less festive crowd. It was where the locals came to drink and where many of the town's shady characters gathered. It wasn't a family establishment like Rosemerta ran over at the Three Broomsticks. You wouldn't find a bottle of butterbeer anywhere in the Hog's Head. Snape looked around, recognized Hagrid and a couple of shopkeepers sitting at a table close to the fireplace. By the level of their laughter, it was obvious that they were not on their first drink of the evening. There were a few other townspeople gathered at some of the tables closest to the fire, but overall, the tavern was having a slow night. The door opened, and two men in dark robes slinked in and settled into a booth not more than ten feet from where Snape sat. He shifted in his seat, and increased his alertness. He recognized their voices instantly, newly inducted Death Eaters. They were former students of his. He was getting more and more concerned at just how young the new recruits to the service of the Dark Lord were. He wondered when there would be Death Eater students at Hogwarts to contend with. Not if, but when.  
  
The men spoke furtively, in hushed voices, and looked up as a third dark cloaked man entered the tavern and crossed the room to join them. Snape took a sip of his ale and strained his ears to hear their conversation more clearly. The men were talking low, but Snape could distinctly make out something about a "major attack" and "putting the fear of Hell into those muggle loving bastards in the ministry". Something was definitely in the works, and from the sound of it, it was going to be big. Snape had not been ordered to participate in this attack by Voldemort, his reputation and status among the Death Eaters had been damaged when his loyalty was brought into question. He was only assigned the most minor and degrading of tasks after the summoning at which he met with his punishment. He shuddered at the memory of that night, and downed the rest of the mug of ale.  
  
The jingle of the door chimes was followed by the sound of female laughter. Two women entered the tavern and took a table near the trio of Death Eaters. He recognized the voice, but it took a moment for him to place it. It was the woman from the tailor shop, but she was not in her usual muggle- ish attire. She had on a simple robe with embroidered trim and a little cap with matching embroidery. "At least she has the prudence to dress like a witch when she ventures outside of the tailor shop." He thought. Flaunting muggle attire was asking for trouble these days. Even the children wore more traditional wizarding clothing under their robes when not in their school uniforms. Nobody wanted to stand out as being affiliated with the muggles after the increase in attacks against muggle sympathizers and the muggle born. "Belle" was talking to a slightly younger blonde witch about the upcoming festival. They had shopping parcels with them, it was obvious that this was what the muggles call a "girls' night out". The barmaid came to their table and took their order, brandied tea for both. The women talked in a hushed voice, breaking into fits of giggles every now and again. The young Death Eaters had stopped talking to each other and were eavesdropping on the two women. One of them made a crude comment about having two women at once, and the one in the middle suggested lying in wait for them in the alleyway that ran along the side of the tavern and grabbing them when they passed by. The third described in graphic and gruesome detail what he would like to do to Belle's blonde friend, and how they would dispose of the women after taking their pleasure and having a little "fun" with them.  
  
Snape felt his stomach tighten and a brief wave of panic shot through him as he remembered what some Death Eaters considered to be "a little fun". "No" he thought. He knew he would have to stop them, possibly take all three of them on in that alley at once. He remembered witnessing and even participating in such attacks on women in the past. He felt very dirty and foul for ever having been like those young men. But that was a lifetime in the past. He could only make amends for his past by his actions here and now. And if taking on these three young Death Eaters in an alley to protect two innocent women was what he had to do to make amends for his past, he was ready and willing.  
  
The door swung open and a large wizard made his way through the room to join the women. He kissed Mirabelle's companion on the cheek and sat down and ordered a drink. He was obviously a husband or lover of the blonde witch. The novice Death Eaters decided that taking on two women and a large man in a dark alley was more risky than taking on only two women. They ditched their plan and got up and left the tavern. Snape breathed a sigh of relief and got up, tossed a few coins on the table to cover the cost of his drink, and followed them out the door. He lost them at the corner, where they apparated into the night. Confident that they would not return to harm Mirabelle and her companions, he walked back to the bridge, making sure he was not being followed, and removed a small silver matchbox from his pocket. It was a special portkey that would instantly transport him to the edge of the forest on the Hogwarts grounds, just behind Hagrid's hut. It was a very special exception to the Hogwarts security system that Dumbledore entrusted with him to assist him on his missions. He arrived unseen by human eyes, and made his way back into the castle and down into his chambers where he composed a quick note to Dumbledore regarding what he had overheard in the tavern. He summoned a house elf to deliver it, and fell across his bed, almost instantly into a deep but fitful sleep still in his trousers and shirt.  
  
He dreamed about his days as one of the cruelest and most efficient Death Eaters to ever have served the Dark Lord. He relived his crimes in his dreams. The faces of his victims were blurred, but he could hear the screams of pain and terror, and smell the blood and sickly sweet smell of burning flesh. He learned very early on to block out their faces. "Block out their faces and they can't haunt you in your dreams" one senior Death Eater had advised him. But the man lied. His dreams were still haunted by the ghosts of the victims of his past life. Every time he took a human life or caused intense human suffering, he felt a little bit of himself die as well. Not his physical self, but his humanity. If he wound up giving his life in the fight against Voldemort, he still would not have come close to making amends for the suffering he had caused. The best he felt he could do was to hold on as long as possible and take as many other Death Eaters out with him when his time was finally up. 


	5. Preparations for the Festival

Author's Notes: We get a taste of the relationship between Mira and Tricia, and our poor Potions master continues his self-destructive slide towards burnout.  
  
Disclaimer: Nothing recognized from the books is mine.  
  
Chapter 5: Preparations for the Festival.  
  
Snape awoke the next morning with his hair drenched in sweat, his clothes rumpled, and his bedcovers wadded up from tossing and turning. He came to consciousness, realized where he was and remembered the events in the tavern the night before. He remembered Mirabelle and her companion, the three young Death Eaters, and a cold chill ran up his back as he had a vivid mental image of the two women lying bloody and mutilated on the ground in the alleyway. Bile rising in his throat, he got up and ran into the bathroom and retched repeatedly until the wave of nausea passed. Hands shaking, he staggered to a chest in the corner of the bathroom, removed a small vial of potion, leaned against the wall for support, and drank it down in one swallow. He staggered back to the edge of his bed, and sat with his head bowed until his hands stopped shaking and his breathing returned to normal. He got back up, rinsed his mouth out, splashed cold water onto his face, ran a comb through his sweaty tangled hair, and went into his bedchamber to change clothes.  
  
He left his chambers and went up to the faculty dining room, where Dumbledore was breakfasting with Professor Sprout, Hagrid, and Mr. Filch. He sat at an empty place setting, and turned the teacup right side up on the saucer. It instantly filled with hot steaming tea. He crossed the knife and fork over the plate and pushed them away.  
  
Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "What? No breakfast, Severus? Not even a piece of toast?"  
  
Snape gave the headmaster a sharp look. "Tea will suffice, I'm not feeling well this morning, possibly a touch of the flu or something, I'm sure it will pass".  
  
"Well, then you should head over to the hospital wing and have Poppy get out an anti-nausea serum for you".  
  
"Thanks headmaster, but I shan't bother her. If necessary, I can manage a simple anti-nausea serum in my lab".  
  
"Very well Severus, I trust that you have some pressing work to attend to this morning. But please come by my office at noontime, we have much to discuss".  
  
"Yes headmaster, I shall see you then" replied the potions master curtly. And with that, he drained his cup of tea, turned the cup upside down on the saucer and rose silently from the table and headed back to his lab.  
  
Snape spent the morning preparing the ingredients for a batch of potent healing salve for Madame Pomfrey and Mademoiselle Lowrey in the school infirmary. If violence again came to the school, the nurse and her new assistant would need to have a significant store of healing potions at their disposal. Snape lit a fire under a cauldron, dumped in the ingredients for the salve, and charmed a small wooden paddle to keep the mixture stirring while it simmered. He pulled on his robe, walked out into the corridor, locked the door to the potion lab behind him and headed up to Dumbledore's office. He found Dumbledore sitting in one of a pair of overstuffed chairs in front of a fire that was crackling with multicolored flames. "Please do come sit down Severus," said the headmaster. Snape crossed the room to the chair. Fawkes, the headmaster's pet phoenix stirred on his perch and cooed a greeting and settled back into sleep. Snape settled wearily into the chair and let out a sigh.  
  
"Goodness me, where are my manners this afternoon" said Dumbledore. "Can I offer you some lunch Severus? You didn't eat a thing at breakfast, you must be famished".  
  
Snape let out a sigh and rolled his eyes. "Really Severus, you must eat, I cannot have you running yourself into the ground from hunger".  
  
"Okay, okay. I'll eat, but I'm really not very hungry".  
  
Dumbledore smiled at the weary potions master. "Very well, a sandwich then?" and snapped his fingers. A house elf appeared and the headmaster placed an order for a sandwich and glass of water for the professor. Dumbledore took a large brass poker and tended the fire in the fireplace, within seconds a plate of assorted sandwiches, a pitcher of water, and a glass appeared on a small table between the two chairs. Snape selected a sandwich from the platter, and ate rapidly. As a man who was in the habit of missing meals, Snape was used to hurriedly grabbing a bite to eat here and there when hunger became overbearing. He poured a glass of water and selected a second sandwich from the plate. A smile worked its way across the headmaster's face, he knew the potions master was under extreme stress, and he continued to busy himself with the fireplace while Snape ate his fill from the plate of food.  
  
Once Snape had eaten his fill, Dumbledore returned to his chair and sat quietly for a minute, contemplating the fire, and the discussion he was about to have with the professor. "I read your report last night Severus, I am very concerned about this big attack being planned against the ministry".  
  
"As am I" replied Snape. "This plan is not one that I have been made aware of, apparently I am not yet trusted again with the planning and carrying out of major attacks".  
  
"This may be problematic," said the headmaster. "I need somebody on the inside who can get me information on the where, when, and who of this attack".  
  
"Yes headmaster, I will do everything I can to get information so that preparations for defense can be made".  
  
"Good, good, I have complete faith in you Severus".  
  
"I am flattered by your confidence headmaster, I will not let you down" replied Snape.  
  
"Now" said the headmaster. "I have your next assignment". You are to go to the celebration in the town square tomorrow evening, and be an out of sight observer, and send up a warning at the first hint of trouble".  
  
"How will I accomplish this without being spotted?" asked Snape.  
  
"I'm sending an invisibility cloak to your quarters via your house elf. You will wear it tomorrow evening and observe the festivities and watch the crowd for any known Death Eaters. You will keep a safe distance, so as not to be detected, and report back to me any information that you happen to overhear. If you see anything that looks like an attack getting ready to happen, use your wand and send up red sparks, and the village constables, the aurors, and others whom I have asked to attend the festival as security forces will rush to intercept the attack".  
  
"Very well headmaster". "I will be ready to leave for the village tomorrow at sunset."  
  
In the small apartment above the tailor shop, Mirabelle DelMare and her cousin's daughter, Patricia, were digging through a trunk of robes, shawls, and other assorted clothing that had been brought back from the Treadle family's summer holiday.  
  
"Father always manages to mix business and pleasure." Complained Tricia, "We were supposed to be on holiday in Morocco, but he insisted on visiting some of the silk merchants to get samples of clothes to carry in the shop."  
  
"Well kiddo, you certainly won't be complaining when you're the belle of the ball in your exotic Morrocan finery at the festival, now will you?" Tricia blushed, she was at the age where she was just coming into her own as a young woman, and beginning to pay attention to things like her clothes, hairstyle, and boys. "Anybody special filling up your dance card? Or are you going to be playing the field and playing it cool?" The woman said as she tossed a filmy silk dancing robe at the giggling girl.  
  
"Stop it aunt Belle! You're teasing me!" Mirabelle got up, tousled the young girl's hair, and walked over to an armoire.  
  
"Now that we have you sorted out with a dancing robe, what am I going to wear?" The girl fished a shimmering robe out of the trunk; the robe was black silk shot throughout with fine threads of silver.  
  
"How about this one aunt Belle? It's your size."  
  
"Ooh, I missed that one, thanks! The fabric is wonderful, with a little embellishment, maybe some little bells and jewels, it'll be perfect for the dance".  
  
"Wear that one aunt Belle, and your dance card will be full all evening too" teased the girl as she ran giggling out the door and down the stairs. Mirabelle chuckled to herself, and held the robe up against her body and contemplated the reflection in the armoire mirror.  
  
The afternoon passed quickly at both the Hogwarts potions lab and the Treadle family's' tailor shop. Professor Snape finished filling the jars with the salve, cleaned up the mess left from the preparation, and had time in the evening for a simple supper in the dining hall, some reading in front of the fireplace, and a long soothing bath before he fell into a much needed deep and restful sleep. Mirabelle excused Tricia from working in the shop that afternoon, so that she could go to the cafe' across the street for a soda and gossip session about the festival and dance with her girlfriends. Mirabelle assisted in last minute shopping and alterations orders for the big day, closed the shop, and retired to her apartment upstairs for a quick bite to eat before tackling the task of embellishing her dancing robe.  
  
Albert, her cousin's husband, wouldn't mind that she took one of the nicer sample robes. He'd see it as good advertising to have his merchandise on display at the dance. Her cousin Suzette (who went simply by Susan now) would have something extremely elegant and opulent made for her by the tailor elves that did the bulk of the actual sewing for the tailor shop. Susan's husband prided himself in having one of the best-dressed witches in the village as his wife. Susan and Albert Treadle lived with their daughter, Patricia, in a large house on the edge of town. When Mirabelle's life fell apart back home in the United States, Susan welcomed her into their home and then offered her a job and keys to the apartment above the tailor shop. Grateful for the change of pace, Mirabelle gladly accepted the offer and had been working in the tailor shop and living in Hogsmeade for close to three years now. She had grown very fond of her cousin's daughter, who was fascinated with her and her heavily muggle influenced upbringing back in the States.  
  
Mirabelle sewed the last little silver bell and sparkling garnet stone onto the robe, hung it on the outside of her armoire, admired it for a moment, and then got ready for bed. Tomorrow would be a short day in the shop. It was closing at noontime in preparation for the festival. That would give her plenty of time to bathe, fix her hair and makeup, and dress for the dance. She extinguished the lamps and blew out the candle on her bedside table and drifted off to sleep, dreaming strange dreams of dancing with even stranger men in long black cloaks. 


	6. Dance Like Nobody's Watching, Love Like ...

Author's Notes: We finally get to see what resides under Mirabelle's frumpy exterior, as she baits the line, for which our Potions master falls hook, line, and sinker.  
  
Disclaimer: If you recognize it from the books, then I didn't come up with it, and I don't own it.  
  
Chapter 6: Dance Like Nobody's Watching, and Love Like You've Never Been Hurt.  
  
The morning of the festival flew by in a blur at the tailor shop. Mirabelle had several last minute customers looking for something off the rack to wear to the dance, as well as people picking up robes that were special orders or which had needed alterations. The only problem was when Elizabetta Moorehead, one of Narcissa Malfoy's socialite friends, burst into tears over the fact that there was simply no time to have an elaborately beaded and embroidered formal robe made up for the dance later that evening. The one she had bought the week before was just not fancy enough, and she was afraid of being shown up by her friends. Mirabelle sent Tricia upstairs to retrieve some fancy jeweled and embroidered shawls from the crate of sample goods brought back from Morocco. She was able to placate the woman with a fine silk shawl that swirled with iridescent colors, and was edged in freshwater pearls. Reassured that no other woman at the dance would have a similar shawl, Elizabetta left the store with her nose in the air and a haughty smirk on her lips.  
  
"Stuck up cow!" Exclaimed Tricia once the woman was out of the store and out of earshot.  
  
"Tricia!" "You shouldn't talk about grown-ups like that... even if it is true".  
  
"I'm sorry aunt Belle, it's just that her daughter is one of the Slytherin girls in my year at school, and she started a rumor that I had a crush on Professor Flitwick and kept all of my school papers from his class under my pillow".  
  
"Oh, really? Hmmmm.... well, I was under the impression that it was another professor of yours that you fancied, the one who teaches your potions class." Mirabelle smirked wickedly as the girl turned red in the face and became totally flustered.  
  
"No way aunt Belle! I'd have to fight you for him, and I know how badly you want him".  
  
"Why you little BRAT! Take your ass home and get ready for the festival, before I curse you and you wind up dancing with two left feet tonight!" Mirabelle pulled her wand out and made playful swishing motions at her cousin's daughter, and chased her out the door of the shop. "That little brat, thinks she knows anything about anything" thought Mirabelle as she locked the door and hurried upstairs to prepare for the dance.  
  
The professors who remained at the school during summer holidays were bustling about, getting ready to head to town for the celebration. Professor Sprout had a fancy bonnet with real flowers on her head and a new robe covered in ruffles, which made her look like nothing more than an overgrown lampshade. Even Hagrid was in the spirit of the celebration. He was just leaving for the village, as he had volunteered to help decorate the bandstand in the town square and carry casks of butterbeer and mulled mead from the pub to the refreshment stands. Dumbledore watched the activity from one of the upper floor staircases. He would not be attending the event; his place was there, at the school. If anything should happen tonight, this is where he needed to be to organize and command the volunteers who had pledged their loyalty to him in the face of the coming battle.  
  
Severus Snape finished up his daily tasks in the potions lab. The healing salve finished, his current project was to make a batch of deflection drops. Taken immediately before a wizarding battle, the potion would help deflect even the most destructive of curses and lessen their impact. A form of magical armor, this potion was complex and took many steps to make. He had come to a stopping point, locked a cask of the half-finished potion away in his cabinet, and retired to his chambers to prepare for his mission.  
  
Snape slipped through the corridors unseen underneath the invisibility cloak, and went to the edge of the school grounds where he apparated to the spot under the bridge. He had cast a silencing charm on his shoes to muffle the sound of his footfalls, and with carefully controlled breathing, he was unlikely to be heard nor seen while infiltrating the crowd. He proceeded directly to the center of town and found a spot just off to one side of the town square and leaned against a lamppost to watch and wait. He observed the townspeople starting to trickle into the town square. Never to be one for parties, he was not at all sad to be there on official business instead of as a participant. It was getting dark, the festival would be starting soon, and he would need to be alert and ready for anything.  
  
Mirabelle checked herself in her mirror, pleased with the alterations and embellishments on the sample robe. She clasped a silver and garnet necklace around her neck, grabbed a diaphanous black spun silk shawl that was edged in fine silver trim and headed down the stairs. She would be meeting her friend, Lucilla, in the square. Tricia, Susan, and Albert would already be there, as Albert was on the festival planning committee and had a seat at the VIP table.  
  
Mirabelle locked the store and joined the procession of people headed towards the square. Everybody was in their finery, there was laughing and joking, a complete change from the usual guarded seriousness that had settled over the village after the attacks of recent months. Lucilla waved for her from a corner of the square. Lucilla was with her current lover, Garrett. Garrett, a large wizard from a nearby farm, was Lucilla's latest in a long line of romances. The trio was joined shortly by one of Garrett's friends, who carried a drum, and a woman who carried a type of instrument that resembled a set of bagpipes. They exchanged pleasantries, and the musicians made their way to the center of the town square, where the bandstand was located.  
  
Snape stood motionless and invisible beneath the enchanted cloak, observing the crowd moving closer to the center of the square, towards the bandstand. A short and stout wizard approached the podium, made some brief announcements, and lit up a riot of tiny lights in the trees and strung above the square with a flourish of his wand. The crowd cheered and the band took the stage and began to play. The music was slow and ponderous traditional wizarding music. The dances consisted of formal precise movements. Descended from Medieval court dances, they were a very important part of the wizarding culture. All of the old wizarding families held elaborate and formal dance balls to celebrate the holidays or a special anniversary or birthday. Snape recalled many a dance he was forced to endure in his youth, partnered with a vapid young social climber or a pucker faced old matron. He let his mind drift and lost himself in the music. After a full set of traditional music, the highborn and other notables drifted away to take refreshments, socialize, admire each other's finery, and rest their feet.  
  
Snape felt he could use a drink, but he couldn't break his cover by removing the cloak. The who's who of Hogsmeade taking a breather, the band broke into more raucous country music. Peasant songs. The dancing was faster, more energetic, with whoops and cries from the crowd. Snape found himself tapping his foot to the music. It was a quiet night, as far as trouble goes. Aside from a few ruffled feathers over dance partner disputes and the expected drunken displays of bravado, the evening was shaping up to be anticlimactic. A complete waste of an evening's work in the potions lab. Snape shifted his weight from foot to foot and checked his watch again, the celebration was winding down, hopefully the crowd wouldn't linger long and he could return to the school, return to work he felt was far more important than being an invisible wallflower at a town dance.  
  
Mirabelle's cousin, Susan, had set her up with a dance partner for the formal dances. He was a widowed trader, a business contact of Albert's. She danced the dances, but felt stiff and stilted. This was not dancing, this was posturing, she thought. Mirabelle just wasn't interested in following her cousin's footsteps in becoming a "cultured lady" of the village. Since her cousin moved to England to be with her love, Albert, so many years ago, she had changed. She was not the carefree girl that Mirabelle had considered more of a sister than a cousin in childhood and adolescence. She was serious, and older than her years. She even dropped her French name for an Anglicized version. She wanted to be a social climber, but had not quite figured out that the grand ladies of the wizarding world were only polite to her because good breeding demanded it. Being a merchant wife, and not from an ancient English wizarding family herself, she would never be accepted into the inner circle of wizarding society. But she tried. Oh, how she tried. The "right" robes, the "right" school for her daughter, the "right" location for their house. But unfortunately, not the right ancestry. Although Mirabelle and Susan were descended from an old French wizarding family, their more recent familial ties with the muggle world tainted their lineage as far as the purebloods were concerned.  
  
The formal part of the evening's dancing completed, Mirabelle accepted a chaste kiss on the hand from her partner, and thanked him for the dances. Then she immediately threaded her way through the crowd to find her friends. Lucilla grabbed Mirabelle by the wrist and pulled her back towards the bandstand. "Come on, I know you want do some real dancing tonight!"  
  
Mirabelle smiled, took the shawl off her shoulders and tied it securely around her hips. She danced with Garrett, she danced with Lucilla's brother, Arnold, and she even danced a turn with Hagrid, the gamekeeper from Hogwarts, who literally lifted her up off the ground and spun her around in his enthusiasm. She caught the eye of her cousin who was sitting with the other ladies, and Susan shot her a disapproving look. "Poor Tricia" she thought. "Having to sit out the fun dances, having to dance with the snobby little sons of the highborn". Tricia looked miserable, but ever so much the little lady she was expected to be, with a pasted on fake smile, chatting idly about nothing with the daughters of the Hogsmeade social elite. The music stopped, and the lights above the square exploded into a shower of multicolored twinkling sparks. The crowd applauded and cheered, the evening had come to an end. Garrett took Mirabelle and Lucilla by the waist and escorted them to the edge of the square. Being a gentleman, despite his country upbringing, he took off his over robe and spread it on the grass for the two women to sit on and rest from dancing.  
  
The crowd was dissipating, Snape watched as many of the attendees trickled down the streets towards their homes, many were apparating, and several took off on broom. The social elite made a great show of being transported back to their manor houses in fine flying carriages pulled by fine horses. Scattered groups of people remained in and around the square. Across from Snape sat a small group of people, including a pair of musicians who had performed during the dance. The man and woman started to play; they played slowly and with an intense beat. One of the women got up and began to dance. Snape's attention drifted, hoping that the stragglers wouldn't drag out the party until dawn, but was brought back to the little group when they started to cheer and applaud and the woman bowed and sat back on the grass. One of the women, a blonde, pulled on another's robe and said, "Your turn now, go on!" The group cheered and applauded as another woman rose and moved to the circle of light under the streetlamp, in front of the seated group.  
  
The music started slow and mournful, the woman started to move to the music. She danced in a way that Snape had never seen a woman dance. She was moving with strength and fluidity, swaying and twining her arms around. The music picked up a heavier beat and she started to move faster, following the backbeat with her hips and shoulders. There was something familiar about her, but her face was to her friends, he knew her, but he didn't know from where. Maybe a former student? The beat picked up in tempo, and she started twirling round and round, and it was when the light from the streetlamp flashed across her face, that Snape realized who she was. It was that woman again. The one from the tailor shop and the tavern. She lived here in the village. He walked to the opposite corner, to get a closer look. She certainly looked different this evening. She was in a dress that clung to her curves and shimmered with the movement of her body, and her hair wasn't up in that frumpy knot she usually wore. The music slowed and she stopped twirling. The drummer intensified the beat and she started to move in a way that made the professor's jaw drop. She faced her friends and started to move her hips and torso in a way that was both sensual and graceful.  
  
Snape stood transfixed, his eyes locked on her hips and the shimmery robe clinging to them. She turned to face him, and the group she was dancing for responded with catcalls and whistles. She was a very sensual woman and relished in it. Snape was quite embarrassed at the sight of her dancing. Wizarding women, no make that wizarding women from good homes, were demure and ladylike and quite a bit old fashioned. The woman dancing before him was none of those things. In fact she was downright tarty. However, not in the same way as the world weary and used up witch whores who plied their wares down in Knockturn alley. This woman held her head high and had no shame. Sexuality and self-awareness like that is magic in its own right he thought. He found himself fixating on her swaying hips and wondered what it would be like to grab her by those hips and pull her down on top of him. He felt the warm flush of arousal in his groin, and was grateful to be inside an invisibility cloak, as he was becoming visibly and rapidly aroused by her dance. She seemed to be dancing for him as the music wound down and she slowed her movements. The group applauded and others who had drifted over to watch her let out catcalls and whistles. She bowed to her audience, and turned and locked eyes with him and smiled.  
  
"How the hell does she know I'm here!" thought the professor in a moment of panic that his cover had been blown during his distraction. He looked down at his feet, realized that he was still completely covered by the invisibility cloak, but wary and taken aback by her seeming ability to know he was there. He quickly crossed the square, putting some distance between himself and the group of people she was gathered with. There was definitely more to this woman than meets the eye. Snape didn't trust her, she was just too different and out of place here in Hogsmeade. There was a story there, and Snape would bet gold that it was a complicated one.  
  
He decided that since the main crowd had left the square, if anything was going to happen, it would have happened already, and decided to call it a night and head back to the school. He had nothing to report, and would not disturb the headmaster this late in the evening. He moved to a secluded alleyway and used the silver matchbox portkey to apparate to the edge of the forest. He made his way undetected to his chambers, went immediately to bed, where he dreamed of being lured into the forbidden forest by dancing nymphs. It was a welcome change from his usual dreams of past deeds and impending doom.  
  
"That was positively inspired, love," the drummer cooed to Mirabelle as she sat and fanned her face.  
  
She smirked and said, "I know, it was for the benefit of my mystery admirer. He never showed his face, but I sensed his presence. I hope he enjoyed the show as much as I enjoyed performing for him. I just hope it wasn't that stick in the mud my cousin set me up with at the dance".  
  
A few more of the women took their turn at dancing, but none could touch the performance Mirabelle gave. They either lacked in physical grace or they lacked the confidence and abandon that Mirabelle felt when she danced. As the evening turned to dawn, the musicians stopped playing, and the stragglers returned to their homes in the village. Lucilla and Garrett walked Mirabelle to the shop, where she bid her friends a good morning, and dragged herself up the stairs and into bed for a few hours of sleep before she had to get up and mind the store. 


	7. Sinking Deeper Into The Pit

Author's Notes: Our poor dear Potions master. In this chapter, he gets a swift kick down the path to breakdown. Much angst and dark magic nastiness.  
  
Disclaimer: Not mine, not a bit of it. Not anything you recognize from the books at least.  
  
Chapter 7: Sinking Deeper Into the Pit.  
  
Morning came much too early for Professor Snape. Down in the dungeons of the Hogwarts castle, an enchanted clock began to chime. He sat up at the edge of his bed, fumbled for his wand, which he kept safely tucked under his pillow at night, muttered "Incendio" and flicked it towards the torches at the top of the walls. The room came into light. Torch and candlelight were the only sources of light in the professor's chambers, as no sunlight could penetrate into the dungeons and other subterranean areas of the school. He made his way to the bathroom, splashed his face with cold water, ran his fingers through his hair, and dressed in the robes that were laid out for him on the bedside chair by his house elf. The invisibility cloak was gone from the bedside table where he had folded and left it the night before; in its place was a scroll from headmaster Dumbledore. "Please join me in the staff dining hall when you awaken, so that you may give me your report on the activities that took place in town last night". Snape pocketed his wand, and set out to meet with the headmaster.  
  
"Well Severus...when I received no report from you last night I assumed that no news is good news. Do you have anything of importance to report regarding the dance?"  
  
"Nothing headmaster. Nothing at all. If there was a death eater attack planned for the festival, it was aborted".  
  
The headmaster took a sip of his tea, and thought for a moment. He looked back up at the younger wizard and smiled. "Well, there may not have been a Death Eater raid. But our gamekeeper is nursing a serious hangover this morning, could you be so kind as to see that a vial of the appropriate morning after potion is sent over to Madame Pomfrey? It is not normally stocked in the school hospital wing's potion cabinets".  
  
"Very well headmaster, after I throw something together to help the big lout deal with his night of overindulgence, I'll be working on the translation of the potion text that I found in the library archives. I trust I shall not be disturbed the rest of the day shall I?"  
  
The older man simply nodded a yes and Snape rose from his chair, turned, and returned to his laboratory, ignoring Mr. Filch's greeting as the two men passed in the hall.  
  
Snape settled at his desk and resumed work on the translation of the ancient text. It was a lucky find in the archives. A book of protective potion recipes derived from the basic deflecting drops. A witch or wizard going into battle could immunize themselves partially against curses and take more hits before succumbing. With a little tinkering, he could boost the effectiveness some and even allow for indirect hits with the major curses and even unforgivable curses to have a lesser impact on the victim. But nothing could disperse the full impact of a direct hit from one of the major or unforgivable curses. Cast at a victim by a witch or wizard accomplished in dark magic, they were every bit as destructive, even with protective potions.  
  
Hours passed, the professor translated the text from Old English to the modern English painstakingly and slowly. Any mistake here could result in a curse amplifying potion or one that had simply no effect at all against curses. Snape didn't notice it at first, but the tingling of the dark mark on his arm gave way to burning, and the instant he felt the heat of the mark, a wave of coldness washed over him, and he felt a twisting in the pit of his stomach. He was being summoned.  
  
He shut the text, put away his quill, and went into his private chambers. He opened a secret compartment in his armoire and removed a black hooded robe and mask. He pocketed them and hurried out of his chambers and up to the headmaster's office. He had to think for a moment to remember the current password to Dumbledore's office; it was "candy floss".  
  
The door opened, and Snape stepped into the office, where the headmaster was sharing tea with the herbology instructor and keeper of the magical and decorative gardens, professor Sprout. The plump old witch looked up at Snape with a shocked look on her face. "Look at yourself Severus. You look a mess! You're so pale! You're pushing yourself way too hard, and when is the last time you've had a decent hot meal? Come sit and take tea with us, I was discussing the new crop of tiger mint plants with the headmaster, it's important that Filch keeps that cat of his away from it, it's potent stuff, tiger mint!"  
  
"I'm sorry, I must decline the tea and conversation, may I please have a word in private with the headmaster, it is of the utmost importance" snapped the potions master.  
  
Dumbledore looked at Snape with profound concern. The pale face, slight tremble in his right hand and look of haunted resignation in his eyes was all Dumbledore needed to see. Snape was being summoned, and every moment he wasted would only increase the burning of the mark, and result in a greater chance of a harsh reception by Voldemort.  
  
The headmaster stood up, placed his hand on Sprout's shoulder, and told her that he would be but a moment, and led Snape out the door of his office and into the small alcove above the stairway. "Are you up to it?"  
  
"I don't have a choice Albus, I have to go. Maybe I can find out why the raid didn't happen at the festival."  
  
"Watch yourself Severus, you are still under suspicion of being a traitor."  
  
Snape looked down at the ground, and then back up at the headmaster. Would this be the last time he ever saw his employer and friend? Dumbledore gently placed a hand on the potion master's shoulder. "Go with strength to endure what must be endured, and return home to us safely once again".  
  
Snape turned and descended the staircase, and made his way through the school and across the grounds into the forest. When he got farther back past the edge of the tree line, past the magical barriers that protect the school, he removed the thin hooded robe from his pocket, unfolded it and pulled it on, placed the mask on his face, and apparated to meet his destiny.  
  
His feet hit the ground, and he found himself in the dungeon of a castle ruin. Some diffuse afternoon sunlight filtered down through cracks in the masonry and illuminated the room. He was in a small chamber, approximately ten by twelve feet. There were a few other masked and robed figures already there, and soon another apparated into the room. In the shadows, on an ornate chair, sat Lord Voldemort, the dark one, the most dangerous and destructive wizard of the time.  
  
He rose and walked over to inspect his troops. Still weak, but very much alive, he struck fear in all who looked upon his scarred and ashen face, even those who pledged their lives and loyalty to him as his followers. One by one, the Death Eaters bowed their heads as their master passed them by. Being in his presence was being in the presence of a powerful energy well. Emotion, warmth, the very life-force within a person seemed to be slowly drained away whenever he was nearby, almost like being in the presence of a dementor.  
  
He stopped at one of the wizards, a smallish man. Snape had an idea who it was, a fairly young man who was once with the ministry but who had turned his allegiance to the dark side out of fear rather than loyalty to the cause. He wouldn't last long in this life thought Snape. The man started to whimper and make apologies for his part in a raid gone wrong where two other death eaters were captured by the ministry and facing charges in Azkaban prison. The man fell to his knees and started to grovel at Voldemort's feet. One of the Death Eaters standing next to him kicked him violently and sharply in the ribcage and told him to stand and meet his master with honor, like a man. The man stood on shaking legs, and with a look of utter contempt and disgust, the dark lord hit him with a curse that made all the bones in his right hand, his wand hand, break at once. The man fell to his knees, crying out in pain, his hand mangled and twisted. Voldemort yanked him to his feet by his robe and told him that next time he screwed up, it would be every bone in his body. Snape shuddered and felt his stomach knot up even tighter as the dark lord walked past him and back to the shadows.  
  
"My loyal servants... I have a task for you to carry out. Many years ago, when I first began my reign of power, I sent some men on a quest to find a particular artifact. A magical stone, its name lost to the ages. This artifact is ancient, and possesses powerful ancient magic, the like of which is no longer fully understood. With this kind of power, the ministry won't have a chance. Information gatherers have told me that it is not in this country, but there may be somebody in Britain who has information regarding its whereabouts. Keep your ears open for any discussions regarding strange jewels or stone artifacts and keep your ears open around foreigners. The exact description of this object is unknown, but it is ancient and powerful and made of gemstone. He who brings this artifact to me will be rewarded most generously".  
  
Voldemort rose from his chair and stepped out of the shadows. He pointed to three wizards standing at the other end of the line. "You, you, and you there, stay here, we need to discuss the task I first informed you of last month. The rest of you are dismissed".  
  
A handful of wizards immediately apparated out of the chamber, a few others followed suit after bowing and expressing loyalty and praise to the Dark Lord. Snape was the only remaining one of the dismissed Death Eaters. Voldemort turned to him. "Has your ingratitude and lack of judgment impaired your hearing? You have been dismissed!"  
  
"My lord", Snape bowed in a gesture of supplication, "I would be honored to serve you on this mission".  
  
"YOU have not reclaimed the right to serve me on a mission of great importance!" Bellowed Voldemort. "YOUR loyalty has been brought to question." Voldemort pulled his wand out of his pocket and stepped in front of Snape, "How DARE you assume the right to beg to serve me, you worthless piece of filth!" The force of the blast hit him before he saw the flash of light. Snape was thrown off his feet and backwards across the room. His head hit the wall and he crumpled to the ground unconscious.  
  
He regained consciousness much later, the sun had set, and the only light in the chamber was what little bit of moonlight able to penetrate through the cracks and crevices of the castle ruins. He tried to stand, but his head was spinning and he fell back onto the stone floor. He pulled his wand out of his pocket. "Lumos" he whispered, it hurt to speak, it hurt to breathe, he almost certainly had broken ribs. He saw the dried blood on his hand and reached up and felt the dried blood matting his hair. His lip was split open and he had been bleeding from the nose as well. He sat there for several minutes, knees drawn up to his chest, head resting on his knees thankful to be still alive and trying to collect his thoughts. He finally found the strength to pull himself to his feet, remove the hooded cloak and mask, and fold them into his pocket. Bracing himself against the wall, Snape reached into his pocket and grasped the silver matchbox portkey and apparated back to edge of the forest. He felt solid Earth beneath his feet, his knees buckled and he fell to the ground. He tried to stand again and lost his balance and fell onto his hands and knees. He sat back on his heels, buried his face in his hands, and broke down in ragged sobs of despair. Every inhalation caused searing pain in his chest, but he was unable to stop crying. He cried for the pain, he cried for the fear, he cried for the shame. He cried for those whose lives he had destroyed as a servant of the Dark Lord, he cried for the life he gave up so foolishly so long ago. He cried for the life he would never be able to lead, for the man he would never be able to be.  
  
Hagrid's dog, Fang, pricked up his ears and turned towards the dark forest, whimpering. Wary and fearing one of the dangerous creatures of the forest might be venturing too close to the school, Hagrid put on his coat, picked up his crossbow, and lit a lantern. He heard a sound coming from the forest, but it was too muffled and far away to tell what it was. Warily, he made his way into the tree line with his dog close at his heels. He couldn't hear the sound anymore, but something wasn't right. Fang barked and trotted off to the left and stood whimpering over a dark form on the ground. As Hagrid approached, he could tell that it was a person. He hurried with his lantern and gasped at what he saw. It was Snape, the potions professor, but his face was a bloody mess, and he was sitting on the ground looking very disoriented.  
  
Hagrid hoisted the professor onto his feet and asked what happened. Snape looked up at him with vague confusion and whispered, "I hit my head, and I have to get to the hospital wing. Can you help me into the school?" Hagrid supported the professor and walked him across the grounds, into the school building, and down the hall to the hospital wing. He sat Snape down on one of the beds just as Madame Pomfrey and her assistant, Mademoiselle Lowry came out of their chambers.  
  
"What happened?" exclaimed Pomfrey.  
  
"I dunno," replied Hagrid. "I found 'im in the forest, all banged up and he said he'd hit 'is head".  
  
Snape looked up and said, "My head, hit a wall... I think I broke a rib, hurts to breathe, hurts to talk. Why's the room spinning like that?"  
  
Poppy helped him back into the bed, administered a painkiller potion and told her assistant to go fetch the headmaster. The girl took off down the hallway in a run and almost knocked the headmaster down as he came around a corner headed towards the hospital wing.  
  
"Headmaster sir". Said the girl. "Come quickly, Professor Snape's been hurt, Hagrid found him in the forest". Dumbledore hurried down the hall, followed closely by the assistant nurse. He entered the hospital wing as Madame Pomfrey was blotting Snape's head with a wet compress.  
  
"Sweet Merlin" muttered the headmaster as he saw the blood on the cloth and in the basin. "What happened to him Poppy?"  
  
"I don't know for certain Albus, but he has a split lip, a concussion, three fractured ribs, and a broken nose".  
  
Dumbledore placed his hand on Snape's forehead, it felt cool and clammy. The professor was unconscious and breathing soundly, but his breaths were ragged and labored. "See that he is made as comfortable as possible, I want him out of pain". "Treat the injuries, but give him a sleeping draught and let him sleep through the night. If anything happens, send for me immediately".  
  
Dumbledore pulled Hagrid into the hallway and left the two witches to their ministrations. "What happened Hagrid?"  
  
"I dunno sir," replied the gamekeeper. "Fang was acting kind strange and I heard something making noise in the edge of the forest and went to have a look. That's when I found our professor here, sittin' on the ground in a daze". "I thought maybe he was out for a walk in the woods and was attacked by something".  
  
The old wizard sighed. "I need not tell you that this is to be kept strictly between us. Do you understand Hagrid?"  
  
"Yessir. Good thing it's still summer holidays, or there'd be no keepin' a secret at all".  
  
"No Hagrid, we are indeed fortunate in that classes are not yet in session. Let's hope that we start the fall term with fit and well potions master shall we"? Hagrid nodded and the two men went their separate ways to their separate quarters. Hagrid fell asleep with a chair barricading the doorway to his little cabin just in case whatever attacked the professor came out of the forest. The headmaster sat up the entire night contemplating whether it was an ethical choice to allow Severus Snape to continue risking his sanity and life to gather information against his former master, and realistically how long could he possibly keep up his current pace without totally breaking down. 


	8. Don't Cry Over Spilled Tea

Author's Note: Snape is ordered to lighten up a bit, and he unleashes some of his notorious "charm" on Mira.  
  
Disclaimer: Don't I wish? But nope, none of it is still mine.  
  
Chapter 8: Don't Cry Over Spilled Tea.  
  
By early afternoon, Snape had left the hospital wing, against the protests of Madame Pomfrey and Headmaster Dumbledore and returned to his potions lab to begin work on a particularly time consuming decoction of snakeweed roots. Work kept his mind off of his worries and fears. He could lose himself in the tedious and mundane task of grinding dried snakeweed root into a fine powder with a mortar and pestle. A task he would have assigned to a student serving detention during the school term, it was a welcome and comforting activity after the previous night's events.  
  
Later that evening, Madame Pomfrey personally went to the potions lab to remind the professor to go eat some supper and then stop by the hospital wing for a follow-up dose of healing potions. Grudgingly he put his supplies away for the evening and made his way to the faculty dining hall. Headmaster Dumbledore was waiting for him.  
  
"Come to check up on me Albus, make sure I clean my plate like a good little boy?" quipped the potion master with an acidic sneer.  
  
"Just seeing that you follow the recommendation of Madame Pomfrey and eat three solid meals a day while you are being treated for your injuries Severus, no need to get defensive. You're of more value to us healthy than laid up in the hospital ward. If you prefer to think of it as such, then I am merely protecting my interests".  
  
"Touché' Albus" said Snape with a smirk. "So, what's on the menu for this evening?"  
  
The two wizards enjoyed their meal in silence. After they finished, Professor Snape rose to leave, but Dumbledore placed a gentle hand on his arm and bid him sit back down.  
  
"There's something I wish to discuss with you Severus," said the older wizard. "I have been growing increasingly concerned over the amount of time and energy that you are devoting to your work. Against my better judgment, I have looked past my concerns and decided to let you do what you felt was best for yourself. But after discussing your health with Madame Pomfrey, I have no choice but to intervene." "Severus, you're working yourself to death. I understand that your work is of utmost importance, and there are responsibilities and obligations placed upon you, which cannot be taken lightly. However, the fact of the matter is, you are working yourself to death and I cannot allow you to destroy yourself this way".  
  
"Albus, please, I appreciate your concern, but you simply have no idea...."  
  
"No my friend, I don't have any idea what it is like to be in the position that you are in, nor can I fathom what it is like to live with the things you have done and the sights you have seen." "Be that as it may, I am still your employer and if I need to take it that far, your master as well. You have made commitments to me and have sworn allegiance to me. I am as the muggles say, pulling rank with you, and ordering you to take better care of yourself". "You are hereby ordered to spend a minimum of one hour every evening in the village of Hogsmeade, taking tea at the cafe' or enjoying a drink in the pub. Maybe even browsing the bookshop or anything else that suits your fancy as long as you don't do anything related to potion making within that hour".  
  
"Albus really! I am in absolutely no mood to play games with you".  
  
"This is no game my friend. I have given you your orders, you will obey them".  
  
Snape saw something in the headmaster's eyes that went beyond the usual playful and placid expression. He saw more than a hint of the true power that the older wizard held. The old man was serious about these orders. However much Snape disagreed with this use of his time, he would obey.  
  
"Very well Albus, let me go to the hospital wing and have my treatment, then I'll fetch my cloak and be on my way to town". Dumbledore merely bowed his head and returned to his office. When he was sure that professor Snape had actually left the school grounds and was not just hiding out in the castle somewhere, he let out a sigh and started compiling a letter to the ministry regarding the threat of a major attack in the near future.  
  
Snape arrived in Hogsmeade just after dark. Activity was winding down. The village's nightlife consisted of the pubs, cafes and teahouses where villagers gathered to enjoy a drink and conversation. Warned by Madame Pomfrey not to mix alcohol with the regeneration potion he was being treated with, Snape bypassed the pubs and headed to the open-air café in the middle of town.  
  
The Mug 'N Muffin cafe' was doing a bustling business. Recently, the muggle preference for exotic coffee beverages had become a fad amongst the more adventurous and artistic members of the wizarding community. Not wishing to try his luck with perpetually foaming cappuccino or some other wizard-muggle hybrid drink, he took a seat and ordered a cup of plain non- magically enhanced coffee. It was good. He hadn't tasted a good cup of coffee in months. Not that he hadn't drunk any coffee during that time, but he hadn't stopped to actually taste it. He was actually enjoying the break from the potions lab and the school castle, despite himself. He finished his coffee, paid his bill, and strolled down the main street of town, stopping in the bookstore to browse the new releases. After returning to the castle and his chambers, he spent a little time in his chair before the fire, reading from the book he had purchased, before going to bed. His sleep was not as fitful as usual, and for the first time in months, he awoke rested and ready to face the day.  
  
After several days of his new assignment, Headmaster Dumbledore, Madame Pomfrey, and even the school ghosts began to notice a difference in the potion master's demeanor. He was still the same sarcastic, sneering prick that he had come to be known as over the years, but the weariness and air of defeat and desperation were lifted from his shoulders. Dumbledore felt confident that he was no longer on the path of self-destruction. "You have destroyed enough lives in the past my friend" contemplated the headmaster. "There is no need for you to destroy your own as an act of contrition."  
  
Mirabelle DelMare's workday was winding down. She had taken measurements and completed an order for an entire wedding party. Highborn wizarding family weddings were tremendously formal affairs. The bride to be was a pale young witch, only half Mirabelle's age. It was a traditional arranged marriage. That was another thing she couldn't wrap her mind around regarding the European wizarding community. Arranged marriages. It seemed so archaic. Both she and her cousin Susan had married for love. The girl, whose name was Oriana, seemed to accept her destiny to become the wife of a young man she had met only twice in her life. Their families would come together to form a powerful alliance in the wizarding world. Would this young woman grow to love her pre-destined mate? Or would she simply be content with doing her familial duty? Certainly there would be children. At the very least an "heir and a spare" before the couple retired to separate living chambers in opposite ends of their house. The girl's sisters and friends were more excited about the fabric swatches and sample robes than the impending nuptials. "But it's really not about the marriage to them" thought Mirabelle. "It's all about the wedding, the trappings, the superficial".  
  
Mirabelle had noticed that it was very much all about the superficial with many highborn witches and wizards. She bundled up the fabric swatches and order forms in a large envelope, and sent them off to the workshop via owl. After straightening up and deciding to close the shop early, she grabbed her bag from under the counter, her robe off of the coat rack and headed down a small side hallway to a little alcove where the floo network fireplace was located. She grabbed a handful of floo powder, tossed it into the fireplace, said "Leaky Cauldron!" and stepped onto the hearth. A bright flame shot up, enveloping her, and within seconds her feet touched down in a large fireplace in a pub on the edge of the wizarding world. She dusted herself off, removed her robe, cast a shrinking spell on it, tucked it and her wand into her bag and walked out the door onto the streets of Muggle London.  
  
This world was less foreign to her. She had been raised in a culture where the veil between magic and muggle was very thin. Her mother had believed very strongly in raising a child who could function in both worlds. But sometimes the wizarding world became overwhelming to her and she had to just get away for a few hours, a few days, or a few weeks. Tonight, a few hours would suffice. She needed to be back in Hogsmeade by dusk, as she didn't want to risk getting lost in the floo network after dark and winding up in a dangerous situation. One could never be too careful nowadays. She didn't even understand the current violence. The same old same old. Good vs. evil. In many ways the wizarding world and the muggle world were very much alike.  
  
She made her way down the busy street to a shopping and entertainment complex, took in a movie, browsed around a newsstand, purchased copies of several muggle magazines, and had a quick bite of dinner in the food court while reading the current issue of Newsweek magazine. The sun was beginning to hang low on the horizon, so she gathered her bag and headed to the pub where she put her robe back on over her muggle clothing and stepped into the floo network fireplace. There must have been a detour somewhere along the way back to the shop, because she wound up across the street in the Mug N' Muffin' cafe's floo fireplace instead of her own. "Damn floo travel! You never know just where you're going to wind up".  
  
Mirabelle dusted off her robe and made her way through the dining room to the outdoor sitting area. She spied her friend, Lucilla at a table near the back, having a fancy coffee drink topped with foam that rolled and billowed like clouds. "Been to muggle-land again Mira?"  
  
"How'd you know Lucy?"  
  
"Well, I finished up early today and thought I'd come see if you wanted to go watch the boys play quidditch, but the store was locked up tight as a drum. I put two and two together. Closing the store early, nobody having a clue where you were around town. Where else could you be? Bring anything back from London for me?"  
  
Mirabelle smiled and pulled a stack of magazines out of her bag, and handed a copy of Vogue magazine to her friend. "Here you go, you're always asking me about muggle fashion, this is what's new for fall". Lucilla thanked her friend and tucked the magazine up under her robe. The two women made some small talk, as Lucilla finished her drink. Lucilla bid Mirabelle farewell and headed to the village quidditch field. Mirabelle packed away her magazines, gathered up the folds of her robe, and stood up. She grabbed her heavy bag of magazines and absentmindedly slung it over her shoulder. She felt it impact with a body, heard the shattering of a teacup, and an angry voice let loose with a string of cursing that made her cringe. "Oh shit! I'm terribly, terribly sorry about that", she said as she turned around to see just what kind of damage she had wrought.  
  
"What in the BLOODY hell do you have in that bag?" roared an incensed Professor Snape. "You big clumsy cow, why don't you pay a little more attention before you go slinging your bag around like that! Look at my robe, just LOOK at it, and that was a full cup of tea you just sent crashing to the ground!"  
  
Mirabelle was taken aback at his reaction to such a minor little accident and felt a mixture of horror and shame. "Oh god, I'm SO sorry professor, I really didn't notice you behind me. Here, let me help you." Mirabelle put her bag back down, and started blotting at the spilled tea with the hem of her robe.  
  
"What in the name of Merlin's Beard is the matter with you woman?" Get off, I'll take care of it myself". Professor Snape pulled his wand out and performed a simple cleansing spell on the front of his robe and tunic. He aimed his wand at the shattered teacup, muttered a short spell, and the shards pulled themselves back together and the teacup became whole again. Mirabelle picked it up off the ground and set it on the professor's table.  
  
"I'm so sorry professor, please, let me buy you another cup of tea, it's the least I can do". The professor sneered and crossed his arms across his chest. Mirabelle realized just why her cousin's daughter was so intimidated by the man. He was a total prick, berating her in public over a simple spilled cup of tea. "Too bad it didn't land in his lap, it'd serve the fucker right" she thought.  
  
The waitress came over to see what the commotion was about, Mirabelle ordered another cup of tea for the professor, handed the woman some coins and the mended cup, and turned to leave, feeling utterly humiliated and even more out of place than she had before her daytrip into London.  
  
While she was waiting to cross the street, she felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned around and it was the professor, holding her bag. "You seem to have left this behind in the cafe'."  
  
"Thank you professor". Mirabelle took the bag and clutched it to her chest. "And, I truly am sorry about the tea". She turned to cross the street and the professor reached out and put his hand on her shoulder again.  
  
"Miss, wait. I overreacted and said some things I regret. Please, come back to the cafe', let me buy you one of those fancy enchanted coffee concoctions".  
  
"If it's all the same professor, I'll pass. I've had a very stressful day, I need something a little stronger than a glorified cappuccino right now".  
  
"Then let me buy you a drink at the pub. Please, it's the least I could do for scolding you like a student back there".  
  
Mirabelle saw the slightest trace of a smile in the man's eyes, and felt the sincerity in his words. "Okay, professor, I accept the offer. But let me run across the street and drop this bag off before I hit anybody else with it. I'll meet you at the pub". Mirabelle started to cross the street, stopped and turned back. "Oh, which pub? The three broomsticks?"  
  
"No, the Hog's Head". "Okay then, I'll meet you there in ten minutes." 


	9. Skeletons in the Closet

Author's Notes: In this chapter, we get to hear Mira's story. What events led to her coming to Hogsmeade, and the chain of events that brings she and the professor together for a common cause starts to come together.  
  
A little bit about how I perceive the main characters, in the HP universe, and interpret them in my own mind: They say a little bit of learning is a dangerous thing, and my undergrad degree in Psychology really leads me to interesting life stories like a moth to a flame. What makes a character the way they are? Essentially the same things that make a real live person the way that they are.  
  
From the first time I read the books, I was absolutely fascinated with the character of Professor Snape. This is a character, which is extremely complex. I don't see him as evil. I really don't. For those of you who have studied the Meyers-Briggs personality types, I think he's an INTP who is very unfulfilled and who has made some astronomically poor choices and who now wallows in a pit of self-loathing misery. Which in no way means that he is incapable of feeling joy, love, or hope. I intend to explore his feelings on how he came to be where he is during the time frame of the story in a later chapter.  
  
Mira? She's not without her own psychological warts. She's not made quite as poor of choices during her life, but she's unfulfilled as well. Whereas I think Snape is trapped in a probably no win situation, Mira is simply getting by the best way she can, with what she has to work with. In the final chapters, she will make a choice that on the surface might seem heroic and altruistic, but is really out of self-interest. This is a modern woman who has learned the hard way how to look out for herself.  
  
Will they partner up and become heroes and save the world, riding off into the sunset to live happily ever after? No. They can't. It's simply not on the path that they have laid out for themselves. The absolute best that either of them can hope for is to find somebody who can look past the surface to see their true potential and appreciate it for what it is while forgiving the flaws. And find solace and affection with each other for as long as they can. Kindred spirits? On a certain level.  
  
I wanted to write a story that showed quite a bit of the professor's human side. That explored the possibility that he actually is a man with feelings and frailties under the hard exterior he has built up around himself. He does grow as a person during the story, and reveals himself to be more human than he comes across as, but he makes no quantum leaps.  
Disclaimers: Not mine if you recognize it from the books.  
  
Chapter 9: Skeletons in the Closet.  
  
Mirabelle returned to the shop, deposited her bag under the counter, fluffed her hair in the mirror, dabbed on a bit of perfume from the display testers, and headed back out the door. She made her way through the evening crowd to the tavern, and spied the professor sitting at a massive high backed booth in the rear corner of the main seating area. "Damn, why couldn't he have gotten a table up close to the fire, I always feel like I'm in a cave back in those booths." She slid into the seat, and a serving girl immediately came to take their order.  
  
"I would like a tall glass of chilled apple mead," said Snape.  
  
"That sounds good, make it two," replied Mirabelle.  
  
"So, you're not from England are you? By the way, may I call you Belle?"  
  
"Please professor, call me Mira. My name's Mirabelle, my cousin's daughter calls me Belle, but I prefer Mira. My full name's Mirabelle DelMare, but I think it's too formal and old fashioned, all my friends just call me Mira".  
  
"That's a French name, isn't it? But your accent isn't French".  
  
"No not really, I come from the United States, from a city called New Orleans. My ancestors are from France. My grandmother lives there now. But I was born in the United States, and lived there until I came here to Hogsmeade to stay with my cousin for a while, and a while turned into three years. "  
  
The serving girl brought their drinks; Mirabelle took a sip and sat back in her seat. Snape picked up his glass, noticed a smudge on the rim, wiped it off with his finger, and set the glass back down with a disgusted sigh.  
  
"So, why did you choose to make your visit to Hogsmeade more permanent Mira?"  
  
"Are you sure you want to hear the story professor? It's full of twists and turns. I don't want to bore you".  
  
"If it's not prying, I'd like to hear your story, I've never traveled to the United States, and other wizarding cultures fascinate me."  
  
"Okay professor, but remember...you asked for it." Mirabelle took a long sip from her drink, and settled herself in the high-backed bench. "My great, great, great grandparents came to New Orleans from their home near Calais, France as importers of fine European trade goods, like furniture and textiles".  
  
"Were they muggles?"  
  
"Oh no, my family has had magical roots as far back as we can trace our lineage. But my ancestors wanted to branch out and do business in the muggle world. At the time, New Orleans was a bustling port city where a shrewd entrepreneur could make a fortune through importing trade goods. Eventually they bought a building in the old French Quarter, where they opened a shop catering to the wealthy. They then retired, moved back to France to enjoy their old age in the countryside, and left the shop to the next generation, and so on, and so forth until it came to me just under twenty years ago."  
  
"You run the shop now, from Hogsmeade?"  
  
"Oh no, I closed the shop before I came here. I own the building. Prime real estate, I'd never let it go. The ground floor and second floor are leased out to a new tenant. But I keep an apartment on the third floor".  
  
"Are your tenants muggles?"  
  
"No, but you have to understand; there isn't a wizarding community in New Orleans like there is here in Hogsmeade, or even in London. There are some primarily muggle shops, which are owned by magical folks who have small back rooms that are accessible by hidden back doors. They do business with wizarding folk there. The wizarding folk know which shops have back alley entrances. The veil between magic and muggle is very thin where I come from. My tenants are both magical folk, but they do business primarily within the muggle culture."  
  
"What was it like? Being raised in the muggle world?"  
  
"Well, my parents and my aunt and uncle were partners in the shop. They were selling antiques. Muggle antiques in the front of the store, and wizarding antiques and collectibles in the back room. Our families had apartments on the upper two floors. When my cousin, Suzy, and I turned ten, our parents started sending us to France for summer holidays every year and our grandmother hired a tutor from Beauxbatons School to come and give us lessons. Suzy really took to it; she was completely fascinated with all things magic and immersed herself in the French wizarding culture. Myself, I was more grounded in the muggle world. I felt so different. Instead of giving me an identity like magic did for Suzie, it made me feel more alienated. I had all muggle friends, and my family never really used magic much at home, in our day-to-day lives. We lived in the middle of a primarily muggle city, we interacted so closely with muggles, that we couldn't take magic for granted and let our guard slip. After our parents' deaths, I hired help for the shop and went to a muggle college and didn't really study magic anymore until I came to live here, in England."  
  
"Your parents' deaths? Your parents and your cousin's parents all died?"  
  
"Yes, it happened 18 years ago. Suzie and I had just graduated high school, our parents sent us to France, where our grandmother was going to take us on an extended tour of wizarding Europe. From what I can tell, my mother made arrangements for she and my father to show some artifacts in the back room to a wizarding collector from abroad. She wrote it in the calendar, they only opened the back room by appointment. My mother and father were found dead in the doorway to the back room, which was totally ransacked and demolished. My aunt and uncle were found dead in the main shop. There were no marks on their bodies, the muggle authorities ruled their deaths as caused by a gas leak, and said the gas must have exploded and destroyed the back room."  
  
"How horrible. But you felt it was dark magic that killed your family?"  
  
"Yes. I felt it. Suzie felt it. She refused to step foot in the shop ever again and signed over her share of ownership in the building to me, and then she returned to France. She met her husband while she was on a sightseeing daytrip in England, and moved to Hogsmeade. I hired salesclerks for the shop, went to a muggle college, where I met my husband."  
  
"You're married? Does he still live in New Orleans?"  
  
"No, I'm not married anymore. He and I divorced a few years ago, that's when I came here."  
  
Snape took a sip of his drink, raised an appreciative eyebrow and set it back down on the table. He looked back at Mira. "I see. Please, go on. This is getting better and better".  
  
"Well, I met and married my ex husband, and we lived above the shop, and ran the shop ourselves. He found out about magic and what I really was by accident when he stumbled upon an inventory of merchandise in the back room, a list of the items and what they did. I hadn't secured the inventory log properly after showing some merchandise to a wizard collector one evening. I had been so very careful to only make appointments to open the back room to wizarding folk during times that my husband would be away. But I slipped up and got sloppy. That's when our marriage went sour. He wanted me to use magic to unethically get money by cheating while gambling. I refused. He demanded to see the hidden back room of the shop. I told him no, there were dangerous items there. He wanted me to make him a wizard; he said that I could initiate him. When I told him that it didn't work that way, he became jealous, and felt that I was keeping the wizarding world from him to have some kind of control over him."  
  
"As is unfortunately the case in many mixed muggle-wizard marriages I'm afraid. How did he react when he realized that you weren't at all what he had thought?"  
  
"He became very angry, then very distant, and started spending a lot of time away from home. I used magic to find out what he was up to. He was seeing a woman con artist, who made her living posing as a witch and telling bogus fortunes and making useless potions for tourists. She had him convinced that she could initiate him into being a wizard if she had access to the magical items in my possession. They had conspired to do away with me and dispose of my body, and then steal my wand, break into the back room, steal the magical artifacts, and take over ownership of the building and shop. The worst part was, during the time they were making their plans; he acted as if he wanted reconciliation, and pretended to want to renew the marriage with a fresh new start. I went along with him until I could figure out what to do. He had no idea I knew what he and his mistress were planning, and I couldn't let on that I felt he was anything but sincere about the reconciliation. The hardest part of the whole ordeal was trying to pretend to be the loyal, loving wife while making my own plans to protect myself against him."  
  
"He sounds like a right bastard of a muggle. And she no better. What did you do when you found out their plans against you?"  
  
"I don't know if I should be telling you this professor. I mean, I kinda lost my cool and did some stuff that could get me in a lot of trouble."  
  
Snape smirked at her and chuckled cynically. "Surely it can't be that bad Mira. I mean, what could be so awful, did you turn them into toads or something?"  
  
Mira choked on the last of the glass of mead. When she regained her composure, she replied to the professor. "I don't know, I really shouldn't be telling you this. My cousin's husband said I shouldn't ever tell anybody, because I could go to wizarding prison over it. I didn't even know there was a wizarding prison".  
  
" I have absolutely no intentions of turning you over to the wizarding authorities over something that happened years ago, and half a world away. We all have skeletons in our closet that we would not wish to be judged for today".  
  
"Okay, I'll tell you what I did to them, but you must promise me that you won't tell a soul".  
  
"Mira, for Merlin's sake, it won't leave this table, now please finish the story".  
  
"Alright". Mira looked around to make sure they weren't being eavesdropped on, leaned in over the table, and continued the story in a hushed voice.  
  
"Well, as I said, I found out they were plotting against me, and I made plans to protect myself against them. But when it came down to it, I snapped and totally lost my cool. I put a curse on him, made him file divorce papers and ask the judge for nothing except what he came into the marriage with. When the divorce was granted, and the court papers signed and filed, I released him from the curse. He went to his mistress, and the two of them came after me. When they broke the door down, I pulled out my wand, turned them both into frogs, stuffed them into a shoebox, drove them out of town to a swamp marsh, and threw them out of the car window and into the water."  
  
Snape cocked his head to one side and looked at her with a puzzled look on his face. "So, you're telling me that you placed the Imperius curse on your husband, turned he and his mistress into frogs and as far as you know, they're living in a swamp marsh?"  
  
"Oh no, the frog curse was temporary, they reverted to human form after a couple days, and made their way out of the swamp to the highway and hitched a ride back into town."  
  
"What did they do to you when they made it back?"  
  
"What could they do to me? What would the police say if they tried to file charges against me? They knew better than to bother me anymore. The last I heard, he's in jail for gambling fraud, she's still ripping off tourists with bogus tarot card readings and worthless sugar water love potions".  
  
"So, after that fiasco, I closed the shop, sold off all the merchandise at an auction, leased the storefront and second floor as an art gallery and studio apartment to a wizarding couple, and kept the third floor apartment for myself. I used some of my money to travel for a while, and wound up at my cousin's house. Her daughter took to me instantly, and it was a welcome change of pace. After a few months, my cousin offered me a job, running the tailor shop, and gave me the keys to the small apartment upstairs. I've been here ever since."  
  
"Well Mira, I must say, that was quite an exciting story, and you've led an interesting life." Snape pulled a small pocket watch out, looked at the dial, and frowned. "I'd love to stay and chat some more, but it's getting late, and I have a long workday ahead of me. We'll have to continue this discussion another day. I'm quite curious about the magical artifacts your family sold in their store. May I walk you back to the tailor shop? It's after dark, and you shouldn't be out on the street by yourself this late".  
  
Snape rose from the bench, straightened his robes, and offered his hand to Mirabelle. She took it, slid out from behind the table, and let him escort her out of the pub, down the street, and to the tailor shop. They bid each other good night, and after Mirabelle locked herself in the shop, Snape set off down the deserted street towards the carriage house to get a ride back to Hogwarts. He didn't notice the hooded figure that was standing just in the shadows across the street, watching him. 


	10. Pieces of the Puzzle Begin to Come Toget...

Author's Notes: Short chapter where things begin to fall into place regarding Mira, her past, and her connection with the conflict between good and evil in the wizarding world. And just how much does Dumbledore know about all of this?  
  
Personally, I feel that Dumbledore is way more than his exterior of twinkling eyes and candy floss beard. I think he knows so much more than he lets on about everything. I think he also is manipulative, although not in a malicious way. But manipulative in the sense that he does like to tinker with people and situations to get the ball rolling towards a specific unfolding of events. Which for better or for worse, means that he does play God with peoples' lives from time to time. Let's hope he knows what he's doing with Snape and Mira, shall we?  
  
Disclaimer: If you recognize it from the books, then it's not mine. Just borrowed for a bit.  
  
Chapter 10: Pieces of the Puzzle Begin to Come Together.  
  
On the carriage ride back to Hogwarts, Snape couldn't help but wonder about certain things that Mirabelle had said during their conversation in the tavern. Could she have something to do with the magical artifact that Voldemort had his followers searching for? It all added up. A foreigner with information regarding a rare artifact, Mira was indeed a foreigner, and had dealt in wizarding antiques and collectibles. An item almost found years ago? Could her family have died at the hands of Death Eaters searching for this artifact? Mira seemed to believe that it was dark magic that killed them. And his initial guess about her having an interesting story was right on the money. Here was a woman who came across at first glance as just any other working class wizarding shopkeeper with a mediocre magical education, but she had used an unforgivable curse against her own husband and turned he and his mistress into frogs and disposed of them in a swamp. She could obviously handle advanced magic, and she had an aggressive and reckless angle to her personality to come up with revenge such as she had taken against them.  
  
Snape found himself growing very fond of the woman. She was an enigma. A strange combination of both the wizarding and muggle worlds, the familiar and foreign. And very sexy, in a dangerous and uncontrolled sort of way. She was nothing like the cool Slytherin ice queens whom he had dated in his youth, nor like the power hungry witches who threw themselves at any wizard remotely involved with dark magic. They sufficed for fulfilling his immediate sexual needs, but were completely one dimensional in their desperation to connect with power through connection to a powerful wizard. He wanted to learn more about this woman, Mirabelle. To learn more about those artifacts, and if the item Voldemort sought could be used by Dumbledore in the fight against darkness.  
  
The gates of the school grounds opened to admit the self-propelled carriage. After arriving at the carriage house, Snape made his way to the library where he found a book on magic of the American South, and retired to his chambers where he read until he fell asleep in his armchair. A house elf appeared in his chambers, placed the book on the table, tucked a lap blanket around the professor, and stoked the fire so that it would burn through the night. Snape awoke the next morning to the dying embers of the fire, a pot of hot tea and his copy of the Daily Prophet on the small table in his sitting room.  
  
He poured a cup of tea and unrolled the newspaper. The headline caught his attention. A museum of wizard history in Ireland had been ransacked and the night watchman had been severely cursed by Death Eaters. "So, they're getting serious about locating this artifact," thought Snape. "At least nobody was killed this time".  
  
He finished his tea, cleaned himself up and put on fresh robes. He pocketed the scroll, and left the dungeons to find headmaster Dumbledore. The headmaster was still in the faculty dining hall, having a discussion with the caretaker, Mr. Filch, about preparations for the upcoming fall school term. He saw Snape approach with the morning paper in his hand, and excused himself from the conversation  
  
"Argus, I shan't keep you any longer, as I know you have much work to do this week to prepare for the return of the faculty and students". Mr. Filch rose from the table, exchanged pleasantries with Snape, and went to take inventory of the cleaning supply cupboards. Dumbledore turned his attention to the professor.  
  
"I've already read the paper Severus, and I share your concern. Can you tell me anything about whatever it is that they're looking for?"  
  
"Well headmaster, aside from what I said in my report the last time I was summoned, I haven't learned much. But I may have a lead on the artifact. It's a long shot, but I intend to see where it leads."  
  
The older wizard looked up with a smile in his eyes. "And this lead, would it by chance have anything to do with a certain female shopkeeper who you shared a drink with in the tavern last night?"  
  
Professor Snape dropped his usual cool facade for a split second and looked genuinely flustered.  
  
"Eyes and ears Severus, you know very well that I have eyes and ears everywhere. Virtually nothing related to my students and faculty comes to pass without my hearing of it. I know the woman of whom you speak, I've not met her in person, but have corresponded with her via owl regarding the faculty academic robes. My sources also tell me that she's quite charming, and one hell of a dancer."  
  
Dumbledore took a drink of his tea, scowled, and reached for the sugar bowl. "So, tell me, do you intend to follow up on your lead this evening?"  
  
Snape, who had fully regained his cool composure, made a dismissive gesture and replied: "I'm not sure, I don't know when our paths will cross again, but the next time I run into the woman, I'll make a point to ask her about the artifact".  
  
Dumbledore took a drink of the tea, and looked up at the younger wizard, and raised one of his eyebrows. "Between you and me Severus, she'd be an awfully nice diversion from the stresses of your work and your missions, you can't stand there and tell me that you're not in the least bit interested in getting to know her better, on a less academic level".  
  
Incensed at being teased like a schoolboy with a crush, Snape felt his cheeks flush with anger. "Albus, enough. You know as well as I do that regardless of how interested I might be, I cannot allow myself to get involved with anybody. Not now, not with things as they are. I cannot afford the distraction of a love affair, and bringing anybody into my life would mean putting them in extreme danger if my cover is blown, and I simply cannot take that risk."  
  
"So, you are interested then?" Dumbledore finished his tea, and placed the cup upside down on the saucer. "Is the feeling mutual? Is she interested in you as well?"  
  
"I have no Earthly idea, and frankly I don't wish to know the answer to that question because it's a moot point. Whether she's interested or not, I cannot afford to find out".  
  
"You can't afford not to my friend. If destiny means to bring the two of you together, then you must see it through to wherever fate takes you. You know as well as I, that whenever we turn our backs on destiny, we turn our backs on infinite possibilities."  
  
"Enough of this foolishness. There are more important things at stake than my love life or lack thereof. I will be in my laboratory if you should need me for anything important. I have work to do". Snape turned on his heel and stormed out of the dining hall, robes billowing out behind him.  
  
Dumbledore stood and smoothed the front of his morning robes, and chuckled to himself. "Well, well... It would appear that our potions master has gone and gotten himself ensnared in the threads of womanly wiles. He must be human after all. Must be quite a shock to him, I suppose." 


	11. Fortune Favors the Bold

Author's Notes: Chapter leading up to our beloved Potions master impulsively making his move for Mira. Go Sevvie, Go!  
  
It will be quite obvious to the reader that he is severely out of practice with the ladies.  
  
Disclaimer: Not mine. Never was. Not the bits from the books and movies that is.  
  
Chapter 11: Fortune Favors the Bold.  
  
Mirabelle rose early, and sent for her cousin's daughter to come help out at the shop. She had left a lot of unfinished work when she closed early the previous afternoon. Mirabelle busied herself in the back room, filing paperwork and working on the monthly accounting statement. She put Tricia to work in the front of the store, unpacking new robes that had arrived from the workshop, and owling customers to let them know their custom orders were ready. Susan arrived at noon to fetch her daughter for an afternoon of back to school shopping in Diagon Alley. While Hogwarts School was just outside the town of Hogsmeade, Tricia lived on campus during the school terms. She came home only during the holidays. Though there was a small wizarding day school located in the village, the Treadles wanted their child to have the prestige of a Hogwarts education.  
  
Susan was still giving Mirabelle the cold shoulder following the argument they had regarding the end of summer festival. Susan railed at how Mirabelle was setting a poor example for Tricia by dancing wantonly with several men of the village after the formal dancing was completed. Mirabelle gently reminded her cousin of the many times they danced wantonly and did even worse things during Mardi Gras back when they lived in New Orleans. Susan not so gently reminded Mirabelle that they were no longer living in New Orleans and that there was a strict social code that good wizarding families were expected to abide by, and daughters of good wizarding families behaved with restraint and decorum. Mirabelle let her cousin rant at her, grateful that information regarding the after hours impromptu drum jam and dance session hadn't found its way through the grapevine. If Susan thought the country dancing during the festival was wanton, she'd have a fit over how Mirabelle, Lucilla, and the other girls were dancing in the wee hours.  
  
Tricia gave her aunt a kiss on the cheek and followed her mother through the floo network fireplace to Diagon Alley. Mirabelle's afternoon went by rather smoothly. Lucilla stopped by just before closing, and asked her if she wanted to go watch the local boys play quidditch. Mirabelle locked up the store, and the two women headed to the quidditch practice field to sit and watch Garrett and the others on their brooms. Lucilla wouldn't even touch a broom after a nasty fall into a briar patch back in her school days. Mirabelle could take it or leave it, she occasionally liked to fly, but felt quidditch was extremely overrated. The local boys were trying to put an amateur quidditch team together, but had a long way to go before they were ready to actually compete in a match. It was really more of an excuse to get together after work, do some fancy flying, and then retire to the pub for a round of drinks.  
  
Professor Snape's day in the Hogwarts potions lab went less than smoothly. Distracted and nursing a grudge from Dumbledore's teasing at breakfast, he accidentally spilled a vial of a caustic elixir and had to stop and clean up the mess before it damaged his workbench. He mistakenly added wormwood before the potion came to a boil instead of afterwards and had to pour an entire cauldron of a healing potion down the drain. Frustrated, he called it a day and wanted no more than to get away from the school for a while. He grabbed his cloak and made his way into Hogsmeade. The weather was invigoratingly cool, so he decided to walk to the village for a bit of exercise and fresh air. As he made his way down the main street, he stopped in front of the tailor shop. But it was closed. "Maybe she's at the tavern" he said to himself and continued on to the Hog's Head.  
  
He took his usual table in the back, but didn't see Mirabelle at any of the tables. The barmaid came to take his order; he ordered ale and a light meal. Food at the Hog's Head left much to be desired, but their sandwiches were palatable. He watched a group of wizards playing cards at one of the tables, realizing that one was cheating. He smirked to himself, and took another drink of his ale.  
  
The door opened and a large group of people entered the tavern. The barmaid and barman pushed some tables together in the middle of the main seating area to accommodate them. There were a dozen people in the group, eight men and four women. Snape immediately recognized two of the women as Mirabelle and her blonde friend. He thought of approaching her, but he didn't want to impose. The men ordered their drinks, and started to get rowdy, talking animatedly about quidditch and telling bawdy jokes. The four women got up and moved to a smaller table near the fireplace. Mira kept feeling as if she were being watched. It was the same exact sensation as the night she was dancing in the square after the festival and had felt unseen eyes watching her. She looked around the tavern, but couldn't see any faces she recognized. The back booths were concealed in shadows, and she couldn't see the occupants. She felt a creepy tingle down her back as she wondered if maybe Albert's business friend was sitting back there, watching her.  
  
Snape finished his meal, left some coins on the table, got up to leave, but stopped at the bar. He handed the barmaid some coins and said: "Here, see the lady by the fireplace in the brown robe? Take her a glass of chilled apple mead". The barmaid fixed the drink and carried it over to the table where the women were enjoying a respite from the quidditch talk, and set it in front of Mirabelle. Mirabelle looked at the drink with a puzzled look. "But I didn't order this" she said to the barmaid.  
  
"No love, but the man at the end of the bar did, and asked me to bring it over to you". All four of the women craned their necks towards the end of the bar but all they could see was a dark hooded figure sweeping out the door. "Who was that Mira?" asked Lucy. "Must be a secret admirer" she replied, looking quite embarassed, and the women all started to giggle like schoolgirls.  
  
The next afternoon, Tricia was sorting the owl post and came across a scroll addressed to Mira. She took it back to the office where Mirabelle was taking care of paperwork. "Auntie Belle, this came in the post, but addressed to you, not the store. And it's got a Hogwarts seal on it". Mirabelle took the scroll, and wondered why it was sent to the store and not her personal mailbox in the village post office. She broke the red wax seal, unrolled it and read the scratchy sharp handwriting: "Hope you enjoyed the chilled mead, if you can, meet me at the cafe' this evening so we can continue our conversation from earlier this week". It was signed with a hastily scribbled signature she couldn't read, but she knew whom it was from.  
  
"What's it say? Am I in some kind of trouble Aunt Belle?"  
  
"No, nothing like that dear". The door chime jingled. "Go see if they need help Tricia, I'll be back here if you need me".  
  
It was a slow day at the tailor shop. Mirabelle got caught up on her paperwork, and Tricia straightened the racks and shelves on the sales floor. Mirabelle let the girl leave early, as Tricia wanted to spend some time with a friend from the village who attended the Hogsmeade wizarding day school instead of Hogwarts. The fall term would be starting soon, and the girls wouldn't be able to see each other again until Christmas holidays. Mirabelle peered out the window at the cafe' several times towards the end of the day, but didn't see the professor sitting at any of the outside tables.  
  
She closed the shop at six and went upstairs to freshen up and put on a robe. She settled on a simple charcoal gray robe with tiny silver buttons and put her hair up with a pair of silver combs. She grabbed up her bag and hurried out the door. Crossing the street, she searched the cluster of tables on the cafe' patio for the professor. Not seeing him anywhere, she took a table towards the back. The waitress came by to take her order. "A pot of spice tea please, and two cups, I'm expecting company." Mirabelle let her mind wander while staring at the crowds passing by on the sidewalk. She was too engrossed to notice the professor slip through the crowded cafe' and approach the table. The scrape of the chair legs on the tiled patio floor startled her and she jumped in her seat, and turned to face the professor.  
  
"Sorry it took me so long to get here, I was delayed at the school, start of term preparations you know."  
  
Mira regained her composure, "Oh, no problem, I haven't been here long. I hope you like spice tea, I ordered a pot for us". Just then, the waitress returned with a tray containing a white china tea set.  
  
"Will that be all, would you like some scones? Teacakes?" Mira looked at the professor, he shook his head. "No thanks, just the tea."  
  
The professor poured them both a cup of tea, and handed one to Mira. "So, about these wizarding artifacts your family used to sell, do you know much about them?"  
  
"Not much. I mean, I remember a little, but you have to understand, when I inherited the shop, it was after the attack on my family, and the back room where the wizarding antiques were showcased was nearly demolished. My mother had been very careful to keep descriptive records of everything in the store, but the inventory book was missing several pages after the attack. I knew what some of the items were, others, I simply had no idea. Most of my wizarding customers knew what they were looking for and knew at a glance if it was in the back room showcases or not. Eventually, they told me enough about the items that I could reconstruct the inventory book."  
  
Snape sat back in his chair, fiddling with the empty cup. "I need to ask you something Mira. Do you believe that the people who attacked and killed your family were looking for something in that back room?"  
  
"Oh definitely. The entire room was ransacked, the inventory book was missing several pages, but nothing was touched in the main part of the store."  
  
"Do you have any idea what they were looking for?"  
  
"Honestly professor, I haven't got a clue. I mean, I wasn't really allowed back there much when my parents were alive, and after the attack a lot of the artifacts were destroyed and of what was left intact, I really couldn't tell if anything was missing or not. Missing inventory lists and missing tags. "  
  
"I see. Would you like another cup of tea?"  
  
"Please, and some cream and a little sugar if you don't mind."  
  
The professor refilled their teacups and passed Mira's back over to her. "Do you recall ever hearing your parents, or your aunt and uncle mention a powerful stone artifact?"  
  
"No, it doesn't ring a bell, do you know what it looks like? Maybe I can remember seeing it in the cases."  
  
"I just know it's a stone or jewel, maybe an orb. It could be set in a piece of jewelry like a talisman or amulet."  
  
"Nope, sorry. If I had a picture or maybe a more detailed description, but I just don't remember anything fitting that description off the top of my head. We had several jewelry pieces, but nothing stands out."  
  
"Hmmmmm. What happened to the wizarding artifacts when you closed the store?"  
  
"Everything got sold off in an auction. I called in some liquidators, a blended muggle/wizard couple, and they held two auctions. One for the general merchandise, open to the public, and a second auction to get rid of the wizarding artifacts, a private auction for wizarding folk."  
  
"Did anybody unusual show up to the wizarding auction, maybe men in dark robes, shady characters?"  
  
"That I couldn't tell you professor, I wasn't at either auction. I had decided to move on with my life and washed my hands of it all when I called the liquidators. The auctioneers might have records of all the winning bidders though."  
  
Snape took a long sip of tea, thinking about what Mira had told him regarding the artifacts. Maybe the stone was taken from the shop but had never made it to Voldemort before he went into seclusion following the backfired curse that drained his powers? Maybe some unsuspecting wizard or witch bought it and had no idea what they possessed? Maybe it was destroyed in the attack or lost in the confusion afterwards?  
  
"By the way professor, what's your interest in it? You're awfully curious about this object."  
  
"It's a very powerful artifact, it could cause serious damage if it fell into the hands of somebody who didn't know its power or who planned to use it for destructive purposes."  
  
"Do you have any idea of what it does professor?"  
  
"No. I just know that it's immensely powerful and has the potential to be very dangerous."  
  
"Well, I'll ask my cousin if she remembers her parents mentioning anything like that, but no promises. Sorry I couldn't have been any more help to you."  
  
"Oh, it's quite alright. I figured it'd be a long shot anyway. It's probably buried in an ancient ruin somewhere or in somebody's private collection of antiquities."  
  
They both sat back and silently finished their tea.  
  
Snape set his empty cup on the tray. "Well, it's getting late, I need to head back to the school. I have a lot of work to do this week to get ready for the new term."  
  
They got up from the table, and Mira fished some coins out of her robe pocket and laid them on the tea tray.  
  
"No, Mira, I asked you to meet me here, let me pay for the tea."  
  
Mira smiled at him. "No, it's okay professor. Consider it returning the favor of the drink in the tavern last night." He returned an awkward smile and she thought she could see the faintest bit of a blush in his pale complexion.  
  
"Let me walk you across the street to the tailor shop Mira, one can never be too careful after dark these days."  
  
"Okay professor, but really, it's just across the street, if you're in a hurry to get home, I can make it just fine on my own."  
  
Snape held out his arm for her to take "No, I insist. I'd feel better if I walked you home, it is after dark."  
  
"Well thanks, that's awfully kind of you." Mira hooked her arm through the crook in his and they walked across the patio, through the back of the cafe', and across the street to the tailor shop. Mira let go of his arm, fished her key out of her bag, and unlocked the door.  
  
"I'm sorry I couldn't help you with the artifact. I hope this evening wasn't a total waste of time, I know you're busy right now."  
  
"Oh no, not at all Mira, it was a pleasant diversion from my work. Once the school term begins, I'm afraid I won't have much chance for diversions."  
  
Mira opened the door, set one foot over the threshold and turned back to him.  
  
"Good night professor".  
  
She turned back to the door and he reached out and took her hand.  
  
"Mira"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"You don't have to call me Professor, my name's Severus.  
  
He smiled at her awkwardly, and took her hand in both of his and kissed it. Realizing what he had just done, his face turned paler than usual then blushed scarlet red. He dropped her hand and practically flew down the street and then down the road leading to the school grounds, cursing himself for making such a foolish and embarassing move. 


	12. Should I Stay or Should I Go

Author's Notes: Love is a battlefield. Or is it a bitch? Either way, the budding romance is off to a rocky start. Snape gets some welcome advice from an unexpected source. Mira has doubts.  
  
How will these two react to the impulsive but chaste kiss outside the tailor shop? Mira, being raised in the more liberal and worldly muggle culture has a radically more different reaction than our poor professor, who hasn't dealt with these kinds of feelings in so long that he's utterly and completely at a loss as to how to move forward.  
  
Disclaimer: Not mine. None of the things from the books. Sigh. such is life.  
Chapter 12: Should I Stay or Should I Go?  
  
Mira stood in shock for a moment, then stumbled back into the shop, locked the door behind her, and nearly fell on the ground laughing. She ran over to the floo fireplace, grabbed a handful of floo powder, tossed it into the fire, said "Lucilla Barrow!" and put her face close to the flames.  
  
"Lucy! Lucy! Are you there?"  
  
Lucilla's floo fireplace blazed into action and nearly scared her out of her wits.  
  
"Damn you Mira! You scared the hell out of me! What's going on?"  
  
"Are you there by yourself?"  
  
"Yeah, why?"  
  
"I'm coming over".  
  
Mira stepped into the fire and in an instant was stepping off the hearth into her friend's sitting room.  
  
"What the bloody hell is going on Mira? You hate floo travel, and it's nearly ten o' clock."  
  
"Lucy, sit down, you won't believe this...."  
  
Lucilla conjured up some hot cocoa and sat and listened to her friend's story.  
  
"Wait, wait Mira, are you telling me that he actually ran away after kissing your hand?"  
  
"Like a scared rabbit Lucy, I thought I was gonna wet my pants it was so funny."  
  
"And you say he's the one who was watching you dancing at the festival, and the same one who sent you the drink at the tavern?"  
  
"Yes, it's him. It took me a while to figure out who was watching me dance that night, but I got the exact same feeling of being watched in the tavern, coming from the back of the room, and then again from the bar. I didn't want to look, I was afraid it was that man Susan's been trying to set me up with, but when he sent the drink over, I had an idea of who it was. He owled me a note this afternoon, and I knew for sure."  
  
"Who is he Mira? I didn't get a good look at him in the tavern, all I could tell was he's tall and wears a dark cloak."  
  
"He's one of the professors at the boarding school, he teaches Potions".  
  
"MIRA! He's a complete and total asshole! Nobody, and I mean nobody who went to Hogwarts has ever had a kind word to say about him, and I've heard he's absolutely foul! You can't be serious Mira, how are you gonna get rid of him?"  
  
"Who said I wanted to get rid of him?"  
  
"Oh Mira, come on. You can do better than that. Besides, I've heard rumors that he's involved in some serious dark magic and may even have ties with you know who...."  
  
"Lucy, that's all gossip. You've never met the man. He's a little abrasive I'll admit, but he's been very gentlemanly to me, and he's absolutely fascinating. He's really not that bad. I mean his hair needs a good washing, and he could smile once in a while, but he's not a troll or anything."  
  
"Fascinating! We both know that fascinating to you means complicated and a little scary. No Mira, listen to me, he is definitely BAD news. He's not just some sulking broody poet or some petty thug with a heart of gold. He's dangerous and I don't want to see you get mixed up with him. Now have some cocoa and think rationally about this".  
  
Mira drank her cocoa. Lucy would never see what she saw in the man. Maybe Lucy was right, Mira really knew nothing of the man aside from his occupation, abrasive personality, and interest in ancient wizarding artifacts. He didn't bat an eyelash at her confession of using an unforgivable curse on her ex-husband. Maybe he was bad news. If nobody had a kind word to say about the man, then maybe she was not seeing him as others who had known him longer saw him.  
  
"It's a moot point anyway Lucy. School starts in less than a week now, he'll be completely caught up in the new term, I doubt I'll see him again. But I have to admit, he's awfully interesting despite what you might believe. He smells sexy, like unwashed sheets."  
  
"Oh Mira, you sick bitch! Drink your damn cocoa and go sleep on the couch, I don't want you in that floo network this late at night. For Merlin's sake, I wouldn't be surprised if he slipped some kind of potion into that drink in the tavern to make you hot for him."  
  
"Calm down Lucy, it's okay. We shared a couple drinks and he kissed me on the hand. It's not like we've swapped bodily fluids or anything. It was just a flirtation, no big deal. It's okay, really."  
  
"Just get some sleep, and try not to dwell on him anymore, okay?"  
  
"Okay... G'night Lucy..."  
  
"G'night Freak."  
  
Mira smirked to herself, got the spare pillow and blanket out of the closet and bedded down on the couch for the night.  
  
Snape hurriedly crossed the school grounds towards the main castle, and noticed a light flickering in the small hut Hagrid lived in, on the edge of the forest.  
  
"What the hell" he said to himself, and walked over to the little house and knocked on the door.  
  
The door opened a few inches, and a very large eye peeped out through the crack.  
  
"Oh, professor, come on in. What brings you out for a late night stroll?"  
  
"Hagrid, I need to talk to you about something. It has to be a secret though. I'm not really comfortable discussing it with the headmaster."  
  
"Well, sit yourself down then, would you like a cup of tea?"  
  
"Something stronger if you don't mind".  
  
"I've got a cask of ale, would ya like a pint?"  
  
"Something stronger than ale if you have it."  
  
"Well, now, this must be serious if you need something stronger than ale to get talkin' about it."  
  
Hagrid fished a flask of amber liquid out of his pocket and handed it to the professor. Snape undid the cork and took a sip, and choked on it.  
  
"Merlin's BEARD Hagrid, what the hell is this?"  
  
"Just a little somethin' I picked up in Knockturn Alley. Strong, but no hangovers."  
  
Snape passed the flask to Hagrid, who took a long sip and winced.  
  
"So, what's botherin' ya professor, it must be something serious to bring you out here this late at night".  
  
"Hagrid, you know the kind of position that I'm in. You know that I'm playing a very dangerous game, and eventually I'll slip up and my cover will be blown. And when that day comes, I won't make it out alive."  
  
"Yes professor, I know full well what's hanging over yer head every day. If ya can't take it anymore, maybe Dumbledore can find a way to send ya into hiding or something."  
  
"No, that's not it at all. I made the commitment to follow this through to the end, whatever that end might be. This isn't about me Hagrid."  
  
Hagrid took another sip from the flask and passed it back to the professor who took a couple long sips, corked the flask, and set it on the table.  
  
"Who's it about professor? Does it have something to do with you know who?"  
  
"No, Hagrid. How can I explain this? Damn, this is hard to talk about."  
  
"Well, spit it out professor, can't do ya any good bottled up inside".  
  
Snape ran his fingers through his hair, let out a deep sigh, and sat forward in his chair.  
  
"Hagrid, when I made the commitment to become a spy for Dumbledore, I made a promise to myself that I wouldn't get involved with anybody. It'd only serve to distract my attention and it wouldn't be fair to the other person. I made a conscious effort to push people away from me before they could get close. I didn't allow myself to have friendships, and I especially didn't allow myself to have any romances."  
  
"Aaah, Professor, ya needn't say no more. You've found somebody that ya fancy. And now, ya don't know what to do about it. "  
  
"I can't do anything about it. If I get involved with her, and things go wrong with my spy missions, Voldemolrt could come after her to punish me. I've already been seen in public with her, more than once. I think she's already in danger. I think she has something to do with a magical artifact that the Death Eaters are looking for. I can't protect her Hagrid. If Voldemort comes after her for this artifact, I can't blow my cover and help her. I don't know what to do, I didn't intend for this to happen, but it has. I know I should just walk away from her, but I don't want to, I can't. If what I dread happens, and I don't come back the next time I'm summoned, I don't want to die having missed this chance."  
  
"For Merlin's sake. If she means that much to ya, then go fer it. You're still a man professor. Dumbledore never expected ya to stop being a man in order to work for him. You've got needs like any other man, and sometimes those needs go farther than just the physical if ya know what I mean."  
  
"But what if getting involved with her causes her to come to harm? How could I live with myself if she were harmed to punish me or if she was taken down with me when this conflict blows up? I can't even think of what could happen to her if she were used to retaliate against me."  
  
Snape sat back in the chair, let out a heavy sigh, and stared into the flickering fire burning in the fireplace.  
  
"Now listen to me, and listen to me good professor. You're destroying yourself. Dumbledore knows it, Pomfrey knows it, and even Sprout knows it. You're working yourself to exhaustion and ya can't keep on punishing yourself for what you are, what you were. If ya want this woman, then let yourself have her. If she'll have you. She does fancy ya back, doesn't she?"  
  
"I think so, I suppose. I really haven't given her a chance to let me know if she does or not. I'm more afraid of her sharing the feeling than not. Because then I'd have lost it all by having to walk away."  
  
"If ya don't mind me asking professor, who is she? She must be a mighty fine woman to put ya in such a state".  
  
"Her name's Mirabelle, she lives in the village."  
  
"Mira? Mira from the tailor shop? Good God man, what the hell are ya thinking letting a woman like that slip through yer fingers?"  
  
"You know her?"  
  
"Know her? I danced with her at the festival, and she's patched my coat a time or two. Several of the men in the village have their eye on her. If I were you, I'd make my move now, before somebody else steals her away and ya loose yer chance."  
  
"How could I be so foolish? I shouldn't have let this happen. I should've shut the door the minute I realized that I was attracted to her."  
  
"Look professor, I can't tell ya what to do, but I will tell you that if you don't at least tell her how ya feel, even if ya decide not to act on it, you'll regret it for the rest of your days."  
  
The two men sat back in their chairs, basking in the effects of the alcohol and the warm glow of the fire.  
  
"Well Hagrid, thank you for the advice, and thank you for the drink. I'll find a way to let her how I feel. How, I don't know. What happens next, I don't know either. But I'm already too far into this to just shut the door and walk away."  
  
"That's the spirit Professor. I mean, after what you've been through since last term, this should be a piece of cake".  
  
Hagrid got up from his chair, walked unsteadily to the door, and held it open for the professor. Snape staggered out the door and into the bracing night air. Momentarily sobered up, he made his way back to the castle and down to his chambers. He fell into a fitful drunken sleep, and woke up with a raging hangover the next morning. 


	13. You Must Play the Hand that You've Been ...

Author's Notes: Snape makes a very difficult choice. Sigh.our poor abused Potions master. Why do I have to torture him so? Hasn't he been through enough already? Not a chance! It's only the beginning of what leads up to a major mind-fuck. Will he persevere and press on? Or will he crater under the pressure and totally break down? You'll find out in a later chapter just how all this angst and stress takes its toll. P.S. Don't think for a moment that our friend Mira will get out of all of this unscathed. But she's a strong girl; she'll pull through.  
  
I give a look into what I feel was the pivotal point of the professor's life. A hint of the tragedy that turned him down that fateful path. Having been through what he's been through, he knows exactly how bad it will be when the conflict in the wizarding community explodes into all out war. Only he can know the true horror that's about to be unleashed, because he has been part of it. It's coming down to the wire, and the wizarding community is getting ready to explode. He's full of mixed and contradictory emotions, and can he sort them out enough to do what's right?  
  
Disclaimer: None of what you recognize from the books belongs to me.  
  
Chapter 13: You Must Play the Hand that you've Been Dealt.  
  
Professor Snape got out of bed, dressed himself, splashed his face with cold water, and ran his fingers through his hair, pushing it off of his face. He looked in the mirror, and was shocked at the slightly green tinge to his complexion and the bloodshot eyes.  
  
"Damn that big hulking oaf, no hangovers my ass!"  
  
Snape shuffled over to his potions cabinet, took out a small vial of pale blue hangover banishing potion, and drank it down in one swallow.  
  
He then busied himself with checking the student potion supply cabinets, and making notes of what needed to be ordered from the apothecary before the start of classes. After lunch, where Hagrid looked like something Filch's cat dragged in, Snape returned to his classroom to write up the class outlines for the Fall term. He took special care to be extra detailed in the event that something happened to him and a substitute teacher was brought in to finish his classes.  
  
At supper, Dumbledore asked him if he had made any progress with his lead on the artifact.  
  
"As a matter of fact, I had a discussion with Hagrid concerning that topic, and I am planning to follow up on it further this evening, when I go into town to place the order for potions supplies."  
  
"Good, glad to hear it Severus, trust me, the fates are at work here, I can feel it."  
  
"You're starting to sound like Trelawney, you better get hold of yourself or you'll be reading your tea leaves at breakfast every morning."  
  
Snape rose from the table, gave Dumbledore a curt nod, and returned to his chambers to get cleaned up and to retrieve the list of supplies. He decided to go to the village by broom for a change. It was a full moon, a harvest moon, and he hadn't been flying in quite some time. He opened a cupboard just inside the door of his chambers, took out a large broom, performed a shrinking charm on it, and tucked it into his robe pocket. He grabbed his cloak and sealed the door to his private chambers behind him. He exited the castle, took out the broom, returned it to its normal size, and flew off into the evening sky. After making the short flight to the village, he re-shrunk the broom, and met with the owner of the apothecary shop who had arranged to go over the Hogwarts potions supply order after hours. Business finished, Snape left the store, and walked around the corner to the tailor shop to see if Mira was still working.  
  
He saw light inside the shop and stopped in front of the main display window. Mira was inside, facing the counter, folding what looked like shawls and placing them in a stack. The open sign was still up and the door was unlocked. He stood and watched her for a moment. She reached across the counter for another shawl. He fleetingly thought of walking in, locking the door behind him, fogging the windows, grabbing her by her hair, pushing her down onto the counter and forcefully having his way with her. Then casting a memory altering charm on her to make her forget about him altogether. He'd have had her, she'd forget he existed, and then he could just shut that door and walk away. But, he'd be no different than the man he closed the door on when he pledged himself to Dumbledore. He'd also have to put a memory charm on himself to get her out of his head, and he just wasn't willing to let her slip completely through his fingers. He had an idea of how to deal with the conflict he was feeling. It was impulsive, but he remembered his conversation with Hagrid and decided to act while he still could.  
  
He reached for the doorknob, hesitated, took a deep breath, and walked into the shop. Mira kept her back to the door, and reached for the last shawl.  
  
"We're getting ready to close. Hold on a sec, and I'll be right with you".  
  
Snape silently crossed the floor as she folded the shawl, and stood directly behind her. Mira set the shawl down, turned around, and found herself nearly nose to nose with the professor. She let out a gasp, and took a step back into the counter.  
  
"Jesus CHRIST professor, you nearly gave me a heart attack!"  
  
"Do you like to fly Mira?"  
  
"Fly? You mean like on a broom?"  
  
"Yes, do you like to fly on a broom?"  
  
"Why?"  
  
"I want you to come flying with me. There's someplace I want to take you, something I need to show you."  
  
"Tonight?"  
  
"Now".  
  
"Have you been at the tavern professor? How many chilled meads have you had tonight?"  
  
"I'm perfectly sober. And please, call me Severus."  
  
Mira looked back over her shoulder, and backed up further against the counter.  
  
"Come on, I've got my broom with me."  
  
"What's this all about? Why are you here? And stop staring at me like that, you're making me nervous."  
  
"I told you, I want to take you flying. Please, just come with me. I promise I haven't been drinking at the tavern, and I promise I'm not here to harm you. Trust me Mira."  
  
Mira looked closely at his eyes, trying to read his emotions. She remembered what Lucy had said about him having ties to dark magic. She didn't sense insincerity or malice though. She sensed sadness, fear, and longing. The emotions were swirling with such intensity that she couldn't pin down exactly what his motives were. But they weren't to do her harm; she did sense that and let down her guard.  
  
"I trust you. I think. This is so against my better judgment, but I'll go with you since you're insisting. Give me a second to close down the store."  
  
Mira quickly checked the back door, closed the owl delivery window, pulled the shades closed in the front windows, and extinguished the lamps. She grabbed a simple brown outdoor robe from the coat rack and pulled it on over her muggle style clothes. She followed the professor outside and closed and locked the door behind them. Snape removed the miniaturized broom from his pocket and returned it to its normal size. It was a broom meant to carry a passenger or cargo, a little bit taller than a person. He mounted the broom and motioned for Mira to climb on behind him.  
  
"No, not in the back. I've ridden on the back of motorcycles, and it scared the hell out of me, I'm not riding on the back, I'm afraid of falling off."  
  
"Then sit in front of me, I can still steer".  
  
Mira settled herself onto the broom, in front of the professor. He wrapped the front of his large black wool cloak around her, leaned over her back, reached around her waist and grabbed the broom with both hands.  
  
"Hold on, we're taking off."  
  
Mira grabbed onto the broom handle behind his hands as they rose up above the rooftops, up above the trees, and leveled off at around a hundred meters above the ground. She looked down, realized that the only thing between her and the countryside rushing by below was a piece of wood, felt a brief wave of panic wash over her, and let out a gasp.  
  
Snape let go of the broom with his left hand, pulled Mira back against his chest, and wrapped his left arm tightly around her waist. She looked back over her right shoulder, smiled at him, and crossed her arms over his, holding on to his wrist with her left hand, and gripping the cloak shut with her right.  
  
"Where are we going?" She said over her shoulder.  
  
"South, towards London. There's someplace I want to take you, something I need to show you. It'll be about an hour's ride, you might as well relax and get comfortable. You won't fall, I've got you."  
  
She relaxed her shoulders and settled back against him, enjoying the wind against her face, and his strong arms around her. She could feel his breath on the back of her neck and his heart beating against her shoulder. She could smell his scent on the cloak. Heady, smoky, male, intoxicating...  
  
Snape rested his chin on the back of her head; trying to remember the last time he had a woman in his arms. Had her for more than merely a means of physical release. "Too god-damned long," he said to himself. He briefly closed his eyes, buried his nose in her hair, and inhaled her sweet, spicy perfume. If he got out of all of this alive... But he couldn't afford to indulge in wishful fantasies. This was a dream, not real. A temporary respite from the hell he had made of his life.  
  
They rode together, above the moonlit countryside, enjoying the freedom of flight, and the sensual pleasure of the proximity of each other's bodies. The countryside started to change, the terrain was flatter, and there were fewer hills and valleys. Snape took the broom lower, over crops and pastures, and gently banked towards a large forest. He slowed the speed of the broom, and sat up straight, looking for a familiar landmark.  
  
"We're almost there, see the clearing up ahead?"  
  
Mira looked off to the horizon, and saw a large clearing in the forest, and what looked like some kind of large stone structure in the center. Snape circled over the clearing, bringing the broom in lower with each pass, and they landed gently on the weedy grass surrounding the structure. He pulled the cloak from around Mira's shoulders, and helped her off of the broom.  
  
"What is this place?"  
  
"My home"  
  
Mira took a few tentative steps towards the structure; she could make out a few details in the moonlight. It appeared to have once been a fine dwelling of some sort. But it was clearly in a state of deep decay. The tower was partially collapsed in on itself, and there were signs of catastrophic damage all over the main part of the structure. The fancy leaded glass windows had gaping holes in them, there were what looked like scorch marks on the stone walls. Vegetation had grown up around the building, obscuring much of the ground floor. What once had been a fountain was now choked with weeds and had a large crack running up the side of the basin. Off to the side was a small fenced in area overgrown with tall grass.  
  
"Your home? I don't understand."  
  
"My ancestral home. My birthright. My childhood."  
  
Snape started to walk towards the structure, his cloak and robe catching in the underbrush. He turned and motioned for Mira to follow him.  
  
"This is where I was born, where I lived as a child."  
  
He pulled out his wand, and performed a withering charm on the grass surrounding the fenced in area, revealing a small graveyard with five ornate marble headstones.  
  
"Where my family died".  
  
He took Mira by the hand, and led her towards the facade of the building. One massive wood and wrought iron door was on the ground, the other half hanging on its hinges.  
  
"What happened here? What happened to your family?"  
  
Snape removed his wool cloak, and spread it on the stone steps of the manor. He sat down and motioned for Mira to sit beside him. He sat looking at the ground between his feet for a few moments, ran his fingers through his hair, let out a weary sigh, and started talking.  
  
"Mira, I brought you here because I need for you to understand the danger of the times we're living in. I don't know what all you know about the unrest that's going on in the wizarding world, but the threat is very real. Close to thirty years ago, a very powerful dark wizard came into power and seduced many witches and wizards to his side with promises of power and prestige. He and his followers committed all manner of atrocities against wizarding and non-wizarding folk alike. I was safely away at school during most of this time, I really didn't know just how far reaching the reign of terror was until it reached my family."  
  
"This dark wizard, you-know-who they call him, killed your family?"  
  
"Not directly, but he set the chain of events into motion that led to my family's destruction."  
  
Snape stood up, ran his hands through his hair again, and paced back and forth for a few moments with his arms crossed over his chest. He stopped, turned back to Mira, and knelt down in front of her.  
  
"This is hard for me Mira, but I feel you should hear the story to understand just what we are facing. When I was away at school, my father and older brother got mixed up in all of it. Father always had aspirations within the wizarding world, his ambition matched only by that of my brother. I was the bookish one, the quiet one, off at school, studying to be a potioner. My brother, Quintus, was approached by a man who offered him wealth, prestige and power if he and my father would allow our home, this building behind us, to be used as a safe-house for followers of the Dark Lord who were being hunted by the ministry of magic. My final year in school, some refugee Death Eaters, as the followers are called, were traced here by a group of Aurors. A major battle broke out between the Death Eaters and the Aurors, and my home was destroyed, my family killed. My father, my mother, my brother, his wife, and their daughter were hiding in the dungeon beneath the tower when a wall collapsed, crushing them. After that happened, my life fell to pieces. If it had not been for Headmaster Dumbledore, I'd be either dead or in wizarding prison today. He took me back into the school, offered me work, and gave me a reason to continue living."  
  
He stood back up, and paced some more, stopping to look up at the crumbling facade. He knelt back down in front of Mira and took her hands.  
  
"I cannot tell you how much danger you could be in Mira. The man behind all of this death and destruction has returned. He's still weak, but gaining power every day. Also, he has many powerful and accomplished wizards and witches willing to do his dirty work for him. They're looking for this artifact. He wants it. He believes that it can restore him to a more powerful state than before his downfall. He'd stop at nothing to get it. And, I believe that his followers were after that artifact when they killed your family. I'm very concerned for your safety Mira. If they haven't tracked you to Hogsmeade yet, they're working on it, and they will come after you. I can't protect you from them Mira. They could be after me too. My fate lies here in England, no matter how this turns out. But you've got to leave Mira. You've got to go back to New Orleans and hide among the muggles. Or go to France and take refuge with your grandmother. You can't stay in Hogsmeade. He'll send somebody after you, and he'll kill you to try and get information about that artifact."  
  
He grabbed Mira by her shoulders and looked into her eyes with a look of desperate intensity.  
  
"Promise me that you'll be out of England within the week. The growing tension between the two sides is about to explode Mira, and you can't be anywhere near Hogsmeade when it happens. Promise me that you'll go far away and not come back, not until he's been defeated for good and it's safe again."  
  
He let go of her shoulders, and sat beside her on the stone steps, slumped over with his elbows on his knees, staring into space.  
  
"But what about Susan, and Tricia? Aren't they in danger too? Shouldn't you be warning them as well?"  
  
"No, I don't believe they're in greater danger than any other wizard or witch. You're the one who inherited the shop and whom they believe has ties to the artifact. It's you they'll come after. And there's more Mira, you can't tell anybody, not even your family, where you're going. Can you do this Mira? Can you get away and stay hidden?"  
  
"No, I can't just up and leave my home, my job, and my family. Not when the dark wizards are gaining power. I left one home to start over again here, I can't just abandon my life and go into hiding without telling anybody or making any long term plans."  
  
Snape turned to Mira, grabbed her shoulders again, and turned her forcefully towards him.  
  
"Mira! Listen to me! You cannot stay in England! You can do this either the easy way or the hard way. Either you make up an excuse to go away for a while. Go far away, and leave no trail which can be traced to you, or I will perform a memory charm on you and send you away and you will not get a chance to say goodbye to your friends and family. I don't want to have to resort to force, but I will take whatever steps necessary to get you safely out of the country. Now, can you make up an excuse to go away for awhile?"  
  
Mira looked at him with shock and confusion, but the look on his face and intensity of his emotions told her that he meant what he said.  
  
"I think so, I can say that I've hit a rough patch in my life again and need to travel to sort things out. I can convince Lucy, she'll convince Susan, it just might work. But what about you Severus, will you be safe? Will you go into hiding away from England too?"  
  
"This isn't about me Mira, it's about you. My fate was sealed years ago; I don't have the option to flee. Whatever happens to me happens, and I have to see it through to the end. I pledged my loyalty to Dumbledore, I can't abandon him now that it's coming down to the wire."  
  
"I don't understand, wouldn't he understand that you were in danger and send you away to keep you safe?"  
  
"It's not that simple. I can't tell you any more about my role in all of this without endangering both of us even more. But you must believe me when I say that there's no choice for either of us in the matter."  
  
Snape stood up turned towards the building. He took one last long look at the ruins of his home, and turned to Mira.  
  
"Come on, we've got to go. The sooner I get you back to Hogsmeade, the sooner you can start getting your affairs in order so that you can leave."  
  
He leaned towards Mira, helped her to her feet, clasped the cloak around his neck, and led her back to where he had left the broom. They climbed on, he wrapped the cloak tightly around her, and they took off back north towards Hogsmeade.  
  
Mira pressed her back as tightly against his body as possible, gripped his arm, and tucked her head back under his chin. She didn't want the flight to end, she knew that it would be the last time she'd ever see him. From the way he was talking, he didn't expect to survive this wizarding war. Silent tears streamed onto her cheeks and were immediately dried by the crisp night air hitting her face.  
  
Snape held Mira tightly with his left arm as they flew above the countryside. He let his mind wander during the flight. He felt a cold sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. He didn't want to send her away, but there was no choice. He couldn't run away with her and ignore the summoning. The burning of the dark mark on his arm would drive him mad and would eventually kill him. He couldn't protect her. If the Death Eaters came for her, he couldn't intervene without blowing his cover and destroying everything he had worked so hard to accomplish for Dumbledore and the resistance. If his cover were blown, they would come after her in retaliation against him. No. There was simply no other way. Maybe this was the way fate would punish him for the atrocities he committed in the past. By forcing him to send away the one person whom he wanted to cling to most in this time of fear and uncertainty. 


	14. Fear and Lust and Longing

Author's Notes: Hallelujah and sound the bells! Snape finally gets laid! Hopefully the scene doesn't send the story crashing right through the boundaries of an "R" rating. A brief passionate encounter takes a turn towards horror as things begin to go horribly wrong for our star-crossed couple. Warning: Some semi-graphic sexual content ahead, proceed with caution. This was a fun one to write. Just what kind of lover would our favorite professor be? A good friend suggested that he would be the type who toys with leather and chains. I think he's much more primal than that. After all, rage and lust are both fueled by passion, and I see Snape as having quite a bit of pent up rage boiling away inside of him. Not a sticky sweet sex scene by any means. But don't worry, it's consensual.  
  
The musical track that set the mood for this chapter was the song: "I Want You Now" by The Clan of Xymox. Too bad I can't listen to it without getting naughty mental images anymore.  
  
Disclaimer: If you recognize it from the books and movies, then it doesn't belong to me.  
  
Chapter 14: Fear and Lust and Longing.  
  
They flew on silently, reaching the edge of Hogsmeade just after midnight. Snape set the broom down gently in front of the tailor shop, unwrapped his cloak from around Mira, and helped her off the broom. He leaned the broom up against the front of the building as she unlocked the door. She turned back towards him, still reeling from what he had told her she had to do.  
  
"So, this is it, this is goodbye."  
  
"I'm sorry Mira. But it has to be, I'm afraid there simply isn't any choice."  
  
"Will you at least be able to owl me from time to time and let me know that you're okay?"  
  
"No, I'm afraid I can't risk it Mira. If the owl was intercepted by the Dark Lord, it could be used to lead the Death Eaters directly to you."  
  
"But."  
  
"Mira, please. For your own sake, just turn around, walk into the store, lock the door behind you, and start packing. And don't look back. Don't worry about me, worry about yourself. Now go, before I use a memory charm on you. You know I will if I have to, please don't make me resort to such unpleasant measures."  
  
Mira took a long look at him, turned around, and walked into the store. She closed the door behind her, and walked over to the counter, braced her hands against the edge, and thought about what she must do.  
  
Snape watched the door close behind her and felt a slight twinge of pain in his forearm, where the dark mark was branded into his flesh. He rubbed his arm, and started to mount the broom. He hesitated and leaned it back against the building and walked to the door of the store. He performed an unlocking charm on the lock, and quietly opened it. It was dark in the shop, but he could see Mira across the room, leaning against the counter. She didn't turn around; she didn't hear the door open. He closed it and performed a simple locking spell on it and walked across the room towards her and silently put his hand on her shoulder.  
  
"Mira."  
  
She turned around quickly, startled by the intruder. Snape grabbed her by the waist, pulled her towards him and kissed her forcefully on the mouth and then whispered in a shaky voice: "I couldn't let you go without knowing what could have been."  
  
Mira reached out and took him by the face and pulled him back towards her. Their lips touched and she felt what seemed like bolts of frozen lightning surging through her body. He reached up and grabbed a handful of her hair, jerked her head back sharply and Mira let out a gasp. He traced his lips from just under her ear to the base of her neck, and she shivered and gasped at his touch. He pulled her head back farther and bit the spot at the crook of her neck. Her body tensed and she gasped again. She reached up and twined her fingers in his hair, breathing shallowly with anticipation as he alternately bit and kissed the tender flesh around her neck and throat. He released her from his embrace, and pushed her back against the counter. She caught her breath and pushed herself up onto the countertop.  
  
"Say the word and I will turn around and walk out the door."  
  
Mira reached out and grabbed the front of his cloak.  
  
"No. Stay."  
  
She unclasped his cloak and pushed it off of his shoulders onto the floor. Pulling him close to her, she undid the closures on his robe and pushed it open to reveal the shirt he wore underneath. She kissed him on his throat, above the collar of his shirt and started unbuttoning the buttons. She reached inside his shirt and ran her fingernails lightly down his smooth strong back. He arched forward into her arms with a throaty purr. Their lips met again, and he unbuttoned her sweater and pushed it back, exposing her shoulders.  
  
"Are you sure this is what you want?" He said breathily.  
  
"More than you can imagine".  
  
He unclasped the front closure of her bra, and caressed her breasts. She arched forward into his hands. He teasingly pinched her nipples and she pulled slightly away and gasped. He pushed her skirt up her thighs and helped her out of her panties while fumbling with his belt and the buttons on his trousers. He grabbed her by the hips and pulled her forward onto him. She cried out, and wrapped her legs around his waist.  
  
"If I'm hurting you, tell me, and I'll stop".  
  
"No. Don't stop, don't hold back."  
  
He leaned her back onto the countertop, and made love to her forcefully and without restraint. Unlike other women who had cringed or tried to pull away, she welcomed his feral style of lovemaking. She wrapped her legs tightly around his waist and they moved together in perfect synch. He could feel her muscles tense up, and hear her breath start to come in short gasps as she started to climax. She cried out, and dug her fingernails into his back as she came. Her spasms of pleasure took him over the edge and he followed closely behind with his orgasm. His knees buckled, and he caught himself on the edge of the counter, and rested his head on her chest, waiting to catch his breath.  
  
Neither of them noticed the cloaked man with the silvery blonde hair who was standing outside the shop, peering in through a gap in the window shades. He sneered and chuckled under his breath, and then turned away, walked to the corner, and apparated into the night.  
  
Recovered from the exertion and breathing normally again, Snape stood up and began to button his shirt and trousers. Mira gave a contented sigh, sat up, pushed her skirt down over her knees, and refastened her bra.  
  
"Sweet Merlin, Mira, that was incredible."  
  
He pulled her off the counter, and into his arms. He held her tightly, his chin resting on her forehead, inhaling the sweet scent of her hair. He savored the moment and committed it to memory, knowing that this would be the last time he would see her, as well as most likely the last time he would ever feel the overpowering and slightly disorienting sensation one feels when they realize that they've fallen in love. He inwardly mourned what he now knew could have been.  
  
The mood was shattered by a searing pain in his forearm. He was being summoned.  
  
"Mira. I have to go now. Remember what you promised me. I want you to go upstairs right now and pack your bags and be ready to leave first thing in the morning. Don't tell anybody where you're going, not your cousin, not even Tricia. You must not leave any kind of trail that could lead the Death Eaters to you. Be careful and watch your back. Promise me Mira. Promise me that you will not return to England until you are contacted by Headmaster Dumbledore and told that it is safe to return. Is that clear Mira? He will know how to find you. Don't ask me how he knows these things, but he will know."  
  
She stood with her arms crossed over her chest and tears in her eyes as he fastened his robe and pulled on his cloak. She followed him to the door. He turned, and pulled her close to him for one final kiss.  
  
"Be careful Severus, please be careful. When this is all over with, promise me that you'll come for me."  
  
He opened the door and stepped out into the cool night air.  
  
"I can't promise you that Mira. All I can promise is that if I had any power to change the situation, tonight would be a beginning, and not an end. "  
  
Snape clutched his forearm as he grabbed the broom from against the building. He mounted the broom, and kicked off into the moonlit sky, headed towards Hogwarts.  
  
He touched down just inside the gates, dropped the broom on the ground, ran to the castle, and down into his dungeon chambers. He unlocked the inner cabinet of his armoire and removed a hooded black robe and ghostly white mask. He threw off his cloak and robe, pulled on the Death Eater robe, pocketed the mask, and pulled his cloak back on. He hurried out of his chambers, through the Potions lab, and up the stairs to the main hallway. He stopped to catch his breath and let the most recent surge of pain from the dark mark pass. Then he ran out the doors of the castle, and into the forest, just out of range of the apparation blocking charms. He stopped, turned and looked back at the castle silhouetted against the moonlit sky and wondered if it would be the last time he would ever see it. He removed his cloak, performed a shrinking spell on it and tucked it into his robe pocket, slipped the mask on his face, raised the hood of the robe, and answered the summoning.  
  
Mira locked the door, and picked the rest of her clothes and wand off the floor. She absentmindedly twined her hair up and used the wand and a muggle style pencil off of the counter to anchor the knot. She walked up the stairs to her apartment. Still reeling from the night's events, she changed into her nightgown and started to get ready for bed. Tomorrow would come soon enough, tonight she needed to rest and try and understand what exactly she had been caught up in. She was just getting ready to brush out her hair, and was startled by three masked wizards apparating inside her room. Mira screamed and ran towards the door.  
  
"Grab her!" The middle wizard ordered.  
  
The larger wizard grabbed her by the waist and clamped a hand over her mouth, muffling her screams. The other one tried to grab hold of her legs but she was kicking and flailing and trying to twist out of his grasp. The leader of the trio raised his wand towards her.  
  
"Stupefy!"  
  
She instantly lost consciousness and fell limp into the arms of the larger wizard. The leader walked over and backhanded her across the cheek, drawing blood from where his ring struck her.  
  
"Muggle loving whore!"  
  
The four of them disapparated from her room, leaving behind the signs of a struggle. 


	15. The Sum of All Fears Becomes Reality

Author's Notes: This is where all Hell breaks loose and the full horror of what has been building up comes crashing down onto our Potion master's head. Warning: Pretty intense violence. No deaths, but a serious mind- fuck and violent torture scene in this chapter. We see the true depth of evilness, which motivates another of Voldemort's followers. We also see the unfathomable horror that Snape endures as a double agent, trying to walk the razor's edge between true master and deceived. It's the final straw; he finishes the chapter with the link to his sanity worn down to a few slender threads.  
  
I really wanted to capture just how out of control and brutal Voldemort and his Death Eaters are in this chapter. This is not just a megalomaniac who wants to take over the world. This is one sick and twisted son of a bitch.  
  
Disclaimer: Only that which is not found in the books or movies is mine.  
  
Chapter 15: The Sum of All Fears Becomes Reality.  
  
Snape apparated and found himself inside the ruins of a medieval cathedral.  
  
"Perverse bastard" he thought to himself. "Summoning us to a muggle church."  
  
He heard hushed voices and saw flickering torchlight coming from the apse, behind the area where the main altar was located. Two other cloaked figures apparated behind him and followed him towards the others. Sitting on the altar like it was a throne, was Lord Voldemort. Three cloaked and masked figures, new Death Eater inductees, groveled at his feet in a display of sacrilege and blasphemy. Snape stepped into the light, and caught Voldemort's eye.  
  
"Aaah, the wandering sheep returns to the flock. I was beginning to think you would try and resist the summoning. I have had reports on your activities of late, and I am very pleased. Come, it is time to welcome you back into the fold."  
  
Voldemort snapped his fingers, and the groveling wizards retreated with heads bowed into the shadows. Snape approached the altar and knelt down before his master.  
  
"My only desire is to serve you my lord. I wish for nothing more than to fulfill my duties in your service."  
  
"Rise."  
  
Snape rose to his feet, head bowed.  
  
"Follow me, I have many things to discuss with you."  
  
Voldemort seemed to float off of the altar and to the ground. He led Snape out of the apse and into a side chapel, the ranks of Death Eaters parted to let them pass, bowing and praising their master.  
  
"Now that you have proven yourself to be worthy of serving me again, I have a very important assignment for you to carry out. There is a major attack in the works for this evening, something that will make the entire wizarding world stand up and take notice of my return. Before dawn breaks, not a wizard or witch alive in this country will doubt that I have returned stronger than before."  
  
"I will be assisting in this attack my lord?"  
  
"No, it is already starting as we speak. Your job will be to convert those at Hogwarts whose loyalties to that muggle loving old fool are wavering. You will bring them to our side, and we will infiltrate and weaken his stronghold from within. Pince, Vector, and Sinestra are all on the verge of switching sides, you will give them a nudge in the right direction."  
  
"Yes, my lord, it is an honor to serve you."  
  
"Come, let us join the others. We are going to have a little bit of entertainment this evening provided by our faithful servants Lucius, Crabbe, and Goyle."  
  
Snape followed Voldemort back to the main altar, and took his place at his master's right side.  
  
Mira awoke to the taste of blood in her mouth and the feeling of cold stone against her cheek. Her eyes adjusted to the dim torchlight, and she realized that she was in some kind of chamber with a large wooden door and one tiny window with heavy bars across it. She tried to get up, but realized that her ankles and hands were bound. She managed to sit up and lean against the stone wall. There was a commotion as a group of people apparated into the chamber. Two masked wizards, most likely the ones who had abducted her, threw a third person down onto the ground next to Mira and disapparated immediately out of the room. Mira pulled herself across the floor towards the figure and recognized her in the flickering torchlight.  
  
"Oh God! Susan! Suzie, wake up! Come on Suzie, wake up, it's me, Mira!"  
  
Her cousin, Susan Treadle, lay on the floor next to her, the hair at her temple matted with blood, groaning and slowly regaining consciousness.  
  
"Where am I? What happened? Tricia! Where's Tricia? What have they done with Tricia?"  
  
"I don't know. Tricia's not here, it's just us. I was getting ready for bed and a group of masked wizards apparated into my room and attacked me. One put a spell on me and I woke up here. I don't know where we are. I know its still night, but I don't know who brought us here, or what they want with us."  
  
"Mira, what are we gonna do? This isn't good. Tricia, Albert, and I were asleep and I was snatched up out of bed. I heard Tricia screaming, and a masked wizard, I guess the same ones who took you, put a spell on Albert and knocked him out cold. I started screaming and ran for my wand. One of the wizards hit me with a stunning spell and I guess I fell and hit my head. The next thing I know, I woke up here with you. Oh my God Mira! You don't think that you know who is behind this? Oh sweet Jesus Mira, what are we gonna do?"  
  
"Calm down Suzie. We've got to keep calm. Did you manage to grab your wand before you were knocked out?"  
  
"No, I didn't even make it to my dresser, I don't have anything but the clothes on my back."  
  
Mira let out a sigh and thought for a moment.  
  
"Suzie. I've got my wand on me. It's in my hair with a pencil. I guess the wizards who brought us here thought it was just part of a pair of Muggle hair sticks or something, because it's still there on my head."  
  
"Mira, you can't possibly take them on yourself. That's suicide! These men are insane, if they're who I think they are, they'd kill you and not think twice about it."  
  
"I'm not planning on doing anything foolish, I just want to let you know that I'm armed and they don't know it. If there is no alternative, it might give us a chance."  
  
"Oh God Mira, why us? What have we done to deserve this? We're not going to make it out of here Mira, these people are crazy. I'll never see Tricia or Albert again!"  
  
"Suzie, calm down. Listen. I think I know what they're after. I was warned that dark wizards are looking for some kind of magic artifact, and they think it may have been one of the things our parents had in the shop. I'm not sure, but I think that the attack that killed them was by a group of wizards sent to find this artifact, and now they've tracked it down to us."  
  
"No! No Mira! There's nothing left from the store. You sold everything. It's all gone. Neither of us have it."  
  
"I know Suzie, try and calm down. You have to keep your wits if you want to make it out of this. Just answer their questions truthfully. The artifact cannot be traced to you or your family, you should be safe."  
  
The door opened slowly, and two wizards entered the chamber. They crossed the floor to Susan and roughly yanked her to her feet. One performed a spell dissolving the bonds on her wrists and ankles. They each grabbed her by the upper arm.  
  
"Not a word from you until you are spoken to. Do you understand?"  
  
Susan shook her head.  
  
"Good, now come, our master is waiting for you."  
  
They hustled her out the door and slammed and locked it behind them.  
  
Out in the choir section of the cathedral, a tall wizard approached the altar.  
  
"My Lord. Our faithful brother has done well and led us closer to the artifact you seek. I have followed his progress and have retrieved the women, and brought them here to you."  
  
"Very good my son. Bring the first one forward so that we may question her."  
  
The crowd parted, leaving an area free in front of the altar, where Voldemort sat with Snape standing at his side. Two large wizards hustled a very frightened witch into the bright torchlight.  
  
"Kneel before me woman!" Bellowed Voldemort. Crabbe and Goyle pushed Susan to her knees.  
  
"Where is it?"  
  
"I don't know."  
  
The tall wizard with silver blonde hair strode over and slapped her hard across the face.  
  
"Show respect to your master, bitch or you will deeply regret it!"  
  
"Please sir, I don't know where the artifact is, I never had possession of it."  
  
With a sickening thought, Snape realized who this woman was and what was going on. He was too late. The other woman had to be Mira, and he had led Malfoy directly to her. He had been too distracted to realize that he was being followed and spied upon. Malfoy and his toadies were probably waiting for him to leave the tailor shop so that they could grab Mira. A wave of panic flooded through him. He was helpless to save her or her cousin. To even speak would mean swift and certain death. All he could do was watch. Watch and pray that the women made it out of the cathedral alive.  
  
"Don't lie to me, we traced it as far as your parents, where is it!"  
  
"I don't know! When my parents died, I moved away. I never had any of the things from the store, my cousin took over the store, and she knows what happened to the things that were there. Not me, I don't know anything! Please, have mercy on me, I have a child to care for!"  
  
Voldemort pulled a small vial out of the folds of his robe and beckoned the tall wizard towards him. He handed the vial to him.  
  
"It's Veratiserum, use it on her, she may be telling the truth. For her sake and the sake of her child, she better be. If she is telling the truth, let her go. Her husband is a potential ally, she will go home and convince him which side they should be on."  
  
Malfoy walked over to the woman. Crabbe and Goyle were holding her firmly by the arms. Malfoy forced her mouth open and poured the potion down her throat. Susan choked and gagged and sank to her knees.  
  
"Now, where were we? Answer me, where is the artifact? What does it do? How is it used?"  
  
"I'm telling you, I don't know what artifact you're talking about. There were many artifacts in the store. When our parents were killed, I left the muggle world for good. Mira, my cousin, could have cared less about wizarding. She took over the store and ran it for some time until that muggle she was married to turned on her. She eventually closed the store and sold off all the things in it to get money to start over. That's all I know."  
  
"Get her out of my sight, she knows nothing. Set her free in the woods behind her house."  
  
The two wizards disapparated with Susan, the blonde wizard approached the altar.  
  
"My humblest apologies Master for wasting your time with this useless woman."  
  
Crabbe and Goyle re-apparated into the cathedral.  
  
"Bring the other one to me." Said Voldemort. "Let's see what we can get out of her."  
  
The two large wizards disappeared down a short hallway and returned shortly, half dragging a struggling Mira towards the altar. They threw her down on the ground in front of Voldemort.  
  
"Bow and kiss the ground before your master! You are not fit to stand upon the ground on which he walks!"  
  
Malfoy strode over and yanked Mira to her knees by the collar of her nightgown and hissed in her ear.  
  
"Look you filthy muggle loving whore, you tell us where that artifact is or you will not live to see the light of day."  
  
"Where is it? Where is the artifact?"  
  
"I don't know, I don't even know what artifact you're talking about."  
  
Malfoy backhanded her across the mouth again, his ring splitting her lip.  
  
"How can I tell you where the thing is when I don't even know what it is?"  
  
He spun around and kicked her in the side. She yelped and crumpled to the ground in pain.  
  
Snape tensed up and took a half step forward before remembering where he was. Voldemort looked at him with a raised eyebrow.  
  
"Look you muggle fucking whore!" Screamed Malfoy. " I am out of patience! Where did the artifacts go when you closed the store?"  
  
Mira caught her breath and pushed herself back up to her knees.  
  
"I sold them, I sold all of them. I don't know who bought them, I wasn't there. They were all sold in an auction before I came to England to live with my cousin."  
  
"You sold them! Sold them! You have such little respect for your magical heritage that you would just sell priceless wizarding artifacts in an auction?"  
  
"I did what I had to do, I didn't know they had any significant value."  
  
"Fucking worthless bitch! No, you're less than worthless! You turned your back on your wizarding heritage and lived with the muggles! I grow tired of you! Where is the artifact?"  
  
"I told you, I don't know!"  
  
"YOU LIE!"  
  
Malfoy slapped her hard, and knocked her to the floor. She lay there shaking in a mixture of pain, fear, and anger.  
  
He approached the altar and bowed his head.  
  
"Master, she knows. She has to know who bought the artifact. May I have your permission to use more persuasive methods with her?"  
  
"I believe she does know more than she admits. It is time we show her just who she is toying with. Let her have a taste of real pain, that should jog her memory as to where the artifact is."  
  
"As you wish my master."  
  
Malfoy turned towards her and pulled his wand from his robes.  
  
"No, not you. You have done very well, and I am pleased with your efforts to extract information out of this woman. But I must give the honor to my most faithful servant."  
  
Malfoy turned towards Snape, and chuckled.  
  
"As you wish my master, I can only hope to receive such an honor myself one day."  
  
Laughing, he strode to join the other Death Eaters who were silently gathered around, watching the display.  
  
Voldemort turned towards Snape and looked him in the eye.  
  
"How about it my son? Let's give her a taste of the Cruiciatus curse. That ought to loosen her lips, don't you agree?"  
  
Snape felt as if the Earth was going to swallow him up. He had a ringing in his ears and could feel the bile creeping up his throat. He knew that he had been played by Malfoy, who stood back with the crowd, chuckling to himself. This was Malfoy's way of seeking revenge on him for being the chosen one, Voldemort's right hand man. It was also Voldemort's way of testing him for unwavering loyalty.  
  
"Master, surely a dose of Veritaserum would be more effective. Nobody can resist its effects."  
  
"I think not. I used the only vial I had on the other woman. And this one won't resist the Cruciatus curse my son, you perform it exquisitely. She'll break. Unless you're losing your nerve and your taste for curses that is?"  
  
"No my Lord. My only desire is to serve you as best I can."  
  
"Very well then, show her no mercy."  
  
Snape was on the verge of panic. Fleeting thoughts of trying to make a break for it with Mira entered his mind, but he knew that he would be dead before he could reach her side. The only hope of saving her life was to go through with the curse and hope she survived and would be let go after all the information that could be wrenched from her was taken.  
  
She had risen to her knees and wiped the blood from her mouth. She followed him from the altar with her eyes blazing with hate, and stared him down defiantly as he stood before her. He wondered if she had any Earthly idea of what was coming. Very few men had been able to stand their ground when faced with the Cruciatus curse.  
  
He felt as if he were in a dream, or as if he were under the Imperius curse and somebody else was controlling his body. His hand trembling slightly, he raised his wand and leveled it at her. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes.  
  
"Crucio." The word came out barely more than a whisper.  
  
The force of the curse hit her, and knocked the breath out of her lungs. Her eyes flew open and rolled back in her head, and she gasped for air. She caught her breath and let out a blood-curdling scream. She fell to the ground and thrashed about, writhing and howling in agony.  
  
Snape lowered his wand and broke the curse. He felt weak in the knees, as if he were about to fly apart into a million pieces. Mira lay on the ground, sobbing and trembling.  
  
Voldemort descended from the altar.  
  
"Now woman. You have a taste of what real pain is. Tell me where the artifact is and I will let you go. Play more games with me and you will get more of that nasty little curse."  
  
"I-I told you. I don't know what you're talking about. I inherited the store and everything in it. I ran the store for a while, but didn't know what any of the magical artifacts and antiquities were. I decided to close the store and hired an auctioneer to sell the contents of the store. I wasn't even in town for the sale, I have no idea who bought what. The sale was open to the public, it could have been anybody."  
  
"Are you trying to tell me that muggles had access to these artifacts at this auction?"  
  
"No, not muggles. The muggle antiques were sold at a muggle auction, the wizarding antiques were sold at a wizarding auction, but you have to believe me, I was not there. I don't know anything about this artifact, I don't even know what it's supposed to look like, or what it's called."  
  
"I think you're holding back. Maybe another taste of the Cruciatus curse will help you remember more."  
  
A panicked look came over Mira's face.  
  
"No! No! Please! I'm telling the truth, I don't know any more!"  
  
Mira shakily pulled herself to her hands and knees and started to scramble away from Snape. He raised his wand at her and cast the Impedimenta curse, stopping her in her tracks. She looked at him with utter panic in her eyes.  
  
"No! Please! Not again! No! I don't know any more! I'm begging you! I swear!"  
  
He raised his wand and pointed it directly at her.  
  
"I'm sorry Mira, I am so truly sorry." He said softly enough that nobody could hear him.  
  
"Crucio".  
  
Mira was still frozen by the Impedimenta curse and couldn't move, but she screamed so loudly that her voice broke. She passed out and collapsed onto the stone floor, her muscles twitching from the intense agony that had been inflicted on her nervous system.  
  
"Wake her."  
  
Snape cast the Ennervate spell on Mira, causing her to regain consciousness. She looked up, saw him and drew her knees against her chest, buried her head in her arms, crying and screaming out in hysterics.  
  
"No! No! Please! No more! I told you everything I know, for God's sake! Please no more!"  
  
Voldemort looked at her with disgust.  
  
"Where is the artifact?"  
  
"I don't know! Please, don't hurt me anymore! I'm telling the truth!"  
  
Voldemort let out a heavy sigh and pointed at Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle.  
  
"You three get this piece of filth out of my sight! Dump her in an alley in Hogsmeade. But make sure she is found alive." He turned to Malfoy. "Do you understand me, I want her to be found alive."  
  
"Yes my master, your will shall be done."  
  
The two larger wizards picked her up by her arms, and the four of them disapparated from the cathedral.  
  
Voldemort turned to Snape, who was staring off into space.  
  
"You have done admirably well my son. You have demonstrated an exceptional degree of loyalty. I am pleased to say that you have passed the test. You will be allowed to live and to continue to serve me as my trusted servant."  
  
Without emotion, he dropped to his knees in front of Voldemort.  
  
"Thank you master, it is my only desire to be allowed to serve you."  
  
Voldemort turned from him and addressed the remaining Death Eaters.  
  
"For those of you who are here and not participating in the attack this evening, rest assured that your time will come. More and more witches and wizards are flocking to our side. The battle is drawing near. The events taking place as we speak will be the catalyst that sets things into motion. Be ready at a moment's notice when the time comes. That is all, you are dismissed." 


	16. Shell Shock and Battle Scars

Author's Notes: It's not over yet. I really wanted to explore Malfoy Sr.'s character a little more. I really see him as pure sociopathic evil. My interpretation of the whole Death Eater pecking order is that Malfoy has not been made Voldemort's right hand man because even Voldemort knows that he should be kept at arm's length. And I intend to explore in a later chapter, how I imagine that Snape came to be associated with Voldemort, and how he came to be the favorite. And just how much Malfoy despises him for it. It's purely speculation, but I see that conflict between the two men.  
  
Violent chapter, but not graphic. Mira doesn't go down without a fight, she gets to kick a little ass and show how the girls take care of themselves in the big city. Voldemort raises the stakes of the wizarding conflict, and Snape has to deal with just what happened in the cathedral and steel himself for what is yet to come. He can't afford the luxury of dwelling on what he has done, it's just one more thing he must endure passively in his role as spy.  
  
Disclaimer: None of the characters from the books and movies belong to me.  
  
Chapter 16: Shell Shock and Battle Scars.  
  
Voldemort strode off towards the back of the cathedral, and the Death Eaters disapparated one by one. Snape remained on his knees for quite some time, wand in hand, with a glazed look in his eyes. He remembered that Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle had Mira somewhere in an alley in Hogsmeade, and knew that while they would not disobey their master and kill her, they would not restrain themselves from harming her further. He stood shakily to his feet, removed the mask and hooded robe, and with a shaking hand,, used his wand to shrink them and placed them in his pocket. He returned his cloak to its proper size and put it on. He then disapparated to the village of Hogsmeade, to try and find Mira.  
  
The streets of the village were deserted. Snape wandered blindly down the main street, casting illuminating spells on the alleyways he passed. But there was no sign of them, and at the rate it was going, it would take him quite some time to check every alley in the village. He heard a scream a few streets over, and took off running in the direction of the noise. As he drew closer, he could see flashes of magical energy lighting up the sky and he could also hear Malfoy bellowing out the curses, and what sounded like a building being blown apart.  
  
The closer her got, he saw people running away from the commotion, shouting about "An attack! Death Eaters blowing up buildings!"  
  
Just before all Hell broke loose, Mira sat propped up against a dingy brick wall in the back of a deep alleyway in the rougher side of Hogsmeade. Crabbe and Goyle stood guard near the opening to the street, as Malfoy paced back and forth in front of Mira.  
  
"Crabbe! Come here! I need your help!"  
  
Crabbe walked back into the darkness of the back alley.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"I need you to stand here and keep an eye on her and make sure she doesn't try anything when she regains consciousness. If she tries anything, knock her out."  
  
Malfoy crouched down in front of Mira, studying her as if she was merely a specimen.  
  
"Well, well, well. The muggle loving whore that nearly led Master's favorite son astray."  
  
He grabbed her hair and turned her face towards the light filtering down between the buildings.  
  
"Pretty. In a common sort of way."  
  
His eyes traveled down the length of her body.  
  
"Regrettably tall for a woman, a hair on the fleshy side. Suitable for a night of whoring, but not at all to the standards which our golden boy should be setting his sights towards."  
  
He crept closer to her, and pushed her nightdress up, exposing her thighs.  
  
"Let's see just what he found so irresistible about her, what she has that's worth all he's prepared to sacrifice."  
  
Mira drifted in and out of semi-consciousness, she felt cold stone behind her back, and could smell the rancid odor of old garbage. She heard voices, but couldn't make out what they were saying. She recognized the voice of the man crouching over her as the leader of the trio that had abducted her. She felt cold groping hands on her legs, creeping up her thighs, and she came to full consciousness in a wave of panic.  
  
"I don't think so!" Mira exclaimed, delivering a swift kick to the crotch of the man in front of her.  
  
Malfoy stumbled back several steps, and fell to the ground, howling in pain. Startled, Crabbe dropped his wand and fumbled for it in the darkness. Mira snatched her wand out of her hair, and lunged behind a large stack of packing crates.  
  
Goyle ran from the front of the alleyway, wand in hand, and delivered a curse in the general direction of Mira's hiding place. The crates exploded into pieces, and she darted past the two wizards, firing curses over her shoulder as she retreated. Both Crabbe and Goyle went down, clutching their faces, which were swelling rapidly with what looked like dozens of hornet stings. She stumbled over fragments of wood and broken bottles from the crates and past Malfoy, who reached out and grabbed her by the ankle.  
  
"Not so fast bitch!" He pulled her to the ground and dragged her over the broken glass and splinters of wood towards him. She screamed and kicked out with her free leg, catching him on the side of the head. He let go, and she tried to pull herself to her feet. She had shards of broken glass and splinters in her leg and was limping badly. Malfoy whipped out his wand and started firing off curses at her. She ducked and a curse hit the façade of one of the buildings, sending chunks of masonry raining down into the alley. She barely missed being hit by a falling brick, but kept stumbling towards the street, screaming for help. Malfoy cast a string of destructive curses, including the killing curse in Mira's general direction. She tucked her wand into her hair and moved as quickly as she could, ducking and dodging, making her way towards the street, but the curses were blasting the sides of the buildings and sending glass, brick, and masonry raining down into the alleyway. She saw a figure up ahead in the streetlight, running towards the alley, and she made one last dash for freedom. Malfoy let loose with a final volley of curses, which hit the front of the buildings, ricocheting back and forth, pummeling her with flying debris and residual magical energy. She entered into the circle of light cast by the streetlamp, and collided with the man who was running towards the scene of destruction. They were both knocked to the ground with the force of the blast coming out of the alleyway, Mira was hit in the head by a piece of debris and knocked unconscious.  
  
Snape dragged Mira around the corner of one of the building, shielded from the curses being cast by Malfoy. The battle over, and the dust settling, Malfoy called out from the darkness.  
  
"You traitorous bastard! I know you're out there! You've gone too far this time! When I report back to Master, you will be as good as dead! I know whose side you're really on, I know who you have pledged your sincere allegiance to! I tried to tell Master what a double crossing Judas you were, but he wouldn't hear of it! Don't think he didn't notice how you reacted to the torture of your filthy muggle loving whore! The seed of doubt was planted in his mind, and I intend to use it to bring you down my brother! And finally take my rightful place at his side! So, you go ahead, take her! Run back to your master in his ivory tower. But rest assured, your days are numbered!"  
  
Snape reached into his pocket, and withdrew the silver matchbox portkey, given to him by Dumbledore. He took Mira's hand and pressed the box between their palms, and they both apparated to the Hogwarts school grounds, just within the cover of trees in the Forbidden Forest.  
  
Safe within the school grounds, Snape tried a simple spell to bring Mira back to consciousness, but was unable to rouse her. He tried to carry her towards the castle, but he had twisted his ankle when they were knocked down outside the alleyway. He managed to get her a few steps out of the forest and into the clearing before his ankle gave out. He lowered her to the ground, and started calling out for Hagrid.  
  
Hagrid emerged from his hut, crossbow in one hand, the other hand tightly gripping Fang's leash. He recognized the professor, and saw that there was somebody on the ground next to him, somebody not moving. He dropped the crossbow and leash and ran towards them. Approaching them, he noticed that Professor Snape had gray dust on his robes and some minor cuts and abrasions on his face and hands. The person on the ground was a woman, her hair matted with blood, her arms and legs bruised and bloody. He recognized her as Mira from the village.  
  
"Hagrid! Help me! She needs to be taken to the hospital wing immediately, and I've hurt my ankle. You've got to carry her. I'll be following behind. Please hurry! She's badly injured and I didn't know where else to take her."  
  
Hagrid picked Mira up, put her over his shoulder like a rag doll, and ran towards the school. He approached the main entrance and took the steps four at a time. Professor Snape was following behind, limping as fast as he could. He came to the hospital wing just as Madame Pomfrey and Mademoiselle Lowrey were getting Mira situated on a cot.  
  
"What on Earth? Professor, who is this woman? What in Merlin's name happened to her?"  
  
"Her name is Mira, she lives in the village, she was attacked by the Death Eaters. She sustained severe magical and physical injuries, she needs immediate attention. I couldn't wake her with the Ennervating charm."  
  
At about that time, Dumbledore came hurrying into the ward, having been summoned by Hagrid. He rushed over with a grave expression on his face.  
  
"Severus, how bad is it? What did they hit her with?"  
  
Snape sat down on the neighboring cot, ran his hands through his hair and took a deep breath.  
  
"I know for sure she's directly sustained the Cruciatus curse twice, and probably some minor ones too. Several other curses, including the killing curse were cast in close proximity to her, none of them hit her directly, but she most certainly caught some residual energy from them. She's also taken quite a serious beating and was hit with flying debris from an explosion."  
  
The nurse's young assistant looked at the professor with her mouth open, eyes large and frightened. Madame Pomfrey turned to her impatiently.  
  
"Lowrey! I need you to focus! If we're going to save her life, we must act quickly! Go to the supply cabinet. I need bandages, wound cleansing salve, and curse reversing tincture."  
  
Pomfrey busied herself dabbing blood from Mira's head and Lowrey ran back to the bedside with a basket full of supplies. The senior nurse took the supplies from her assistant and told her to clean the professor's wounds and wrap his ankle in a bandage.  
  
Cleaned and bandaged, Snape went to see what Madame Pomfrey was doing to Mira. She had already removed her bloody and filthy nightdress, cleaned her many wounds, and had her tucked in under a crisp white sheet. A small dish of bloody glass shards and splinters sat on the bedside table, along with Mira's wand, a bowl of curse reversing tincture and a small sponge. Pomfrey started dabbing the tincture on Mira's forehead. Dumbledore was standing at the head of the bed, with his arms crossed across his chest, and a very serious expression on his face.  
  
"Hagrid told me that he found you and your friend, Mira, just outside the woods. He also told me that there had been a Death Eater attack in the village. You did the right thing, bringing her here."  
  
Madame Pomfrey looked at the professor with a pursed look on her face.  
  
"Well, I have done all that I can do for the moment. All we can do now is let her rest. She is in very serious condition. Had she sustained just one more minor curse, she would be dead. She's very weak. She's absorbed a very serious amount of destructive magical energy and will need some time for it to dissipate from her body. I don't know how else to say this, but I believe she also has been raped, sometime within the past few hours.  
  
"No, not raped." Replied Snape.  
  
"But how could you possibly know that, Professor?" Asked Pomfrey impatiently.  
  
"She wasn't, Poppy."  
  
Dumbledore looked at the professor with raised eyebrows. Pomfrey looked at Dumbledore, then back at Snape.  
  
"Oh, I see. Well then... We need to let her rest this morning. She may be out for quite some time, she needs peace and quiet to heal. You may visit her later this evening Professor. In the meanwhile, I suggest you rest that ankle."  
  
Dumbledore turned to the nurse and the professor. "Professor Snape will be joining me in my quarters Poppy. Might I ask you to send a very strong sleeping draught to his quarters via house elf, he will need his rest whether he wants it or not."  
  
Dumbledore placed his hand on Snape's shoulder. The two men walked slowly and quietly from the hospital ward to the headmaster's private office. Once upstairs, Dumbledore rang for a house elf, who stoked the fire and brought a tray laden with tea and scones.  
  
The men settled themselves into the pair of wing-backed chairs near the fire.  
  
"Tea Severus?" Asked the older wizard.  
  
"Something stronger if you have it please." Replied the younger.  
  
With an understanding look, Dumbledore rose from his chair, went to a cabinet and retrieved an ornate liquor bottle and set it on the tea tray. Snape poured two fingers worth of brandy into his teacup and filled it the rest of the way with steaming tea. He downed it in two large gulps and sat forward, his head in his hands.  
  
"I truly am sorry about her Severus. But, she's in trusted hands. I have great faith in Poppy's methods. She will recover."  
  
"It's not that, Albus. I'm sure Poppy will heal her, but it's not just the extent of the curses and other injuries she endured, but how she endured them."  
  
"You were there when it happened? You were summoned weren't you Severus?"  
  
"I was there. I couldn't do anything to prevent it. I had to go along and pretend that she didn't matter, that she was nothing but a muggle loving woman who had some information that might be useful. I nearly blew it and got us both killed on the spot. It's all my fault. I did this to her."  
  
"Severus. You didn't do this to her, you merely allowed her into your life."  
  
"No, Albus. You don't understand. I was forced to perform the Cruciatus curse on her twice, as a kind of loyalty test by Voldemort. I had no choice. Had I refused, we'd both be dead. I had to play along and do what I was told."  
  
"I see." Replied Dumbledore, pouring a shot of brandy into his own teacup.  
  
"Albus, how can I look her in the eye knowing that I was the one who performed that curse on her? She has no idea. All she knows is that she was abducted and tortured by masked followers of Voldemort. She has no idea that I was involved, much less the one who cursed her. All she knows is that I saved her from Malfoy and his toadies, Crabbe and Goyle, in the alley."  
  
Snape poured another shot of brandy into the teacup, and drank it down. He placed the cup on the tray, pressed his fists to his forehead, as if he were trying to soothe a headache, then slammed them down on the arms of the chair with such force that the cups on the tea tray rattled. He stood up quickly from the chair and paced in front of the fireplace, body tensed, hands shaking.  
  
"Albus! She's lying in that hospital ward, she could have died, and I did this to her! I sucked her into the complications of my life, and I performed that damned curse on her. And she thinks I'm her hero because I happened to be lucky enough to be in the right place at the right time when she came stumbling out of that alley. Some hero she'll think I am when she finds out that it was my wand that cast that curse!"  
  
"I'm sure she will come to terms with it and understand that you had to do it to save her life."  
  
"You weren't there! You didn't see the way Malfoy roughed her up! You didn't see the way she tried to crawl away like a scared animal! You didn't see the blind panic and terror in her eyes after I had to immobilize her, with her knowing full well what was coming! Tell me, just how in the hell is she supposed to come to terms with and understand something like that? And how the hell do I come to terms with having caused it?"  
  
Dumbledore sat quietly while the professor vented, a curious look on his face. "You said that Malfoy roughed her up? Lucius was involved with this?"  
  
"He set me up. He has been spying on me, and watching me with Mira in the village. The sick bastard was probably spying on us earlier this evening when I was having it off with her. He set the evening's events into motion. He was hoping that I would blow my cover and try and save her. He was casting curses with no restraint in that alleyway, he could have hit anybody. I'm surprised she was able to get away from him. She's more of a witch than meets the eye. I must give her credit for that. He's completely out of control. He relished his little role in the night's proceedings. He enjoyed smacking those women around, he was getting off to it. And it was all a game to him."  
  
Professor Snape lowered himself slowly into the chair, staring blankly into the fire, looking very tired and defeated. Dumbledore shifted uncomfortably in his chair and cleared his throat.  
  
"I'm not sure how else to tell you, so I'll just say it Severus. There was a major Death Eater raid on Azkaban Prison this evening. Several guards were killed, the dementors were chased away from the fortress, and they succeeded in freeing many former Death Eaters who were incarcerated there. Some of the most dangerous followers of Voldemort are now free and back at his side."  
  
The younger wizard paled and gripped the arms of the chair with whitening knuckles.  
  
"No! It can't be. How could they pull off such an attack?"  
  
"I don't know. I just know the facts of what happened, and that the stakes have risen."  
  
"What do you want me to do Albus?"  
  
"There is nothing you can do. Just wait and be prepared for anything. The students return the day after tomorrow, and we must try and press on with as much of a sense of normalcy as possible."  
  
"Surely parents will want to keep their children home this term?"  
  
"No Severus, they have confidence that Hogwarts School is the safest place that their children can be at this time. Very few of our students will not be attending this term."  
  
"I see. But it may not be as safe as you think. Voldemort informed me that there are three teachers who are sympathetic to his cause and who are on the verge of pledging allegiance to him. I was instructed to bring them over to his side."  
  
Dumbledore clasped his fingers together and rested his chin on his hands. "Yes, this is a problem. Who are they?"  
  
"Vector, Pince, and Sinestra."  
  
"Oh my. How unfortunate. Sadly, they will have to be dealt with. Get them to incriminate themselves in writing. I will arrange for correspondence between you and them to be intercepted. That way I can have them arrested and your cover will remain intact."  
  
"Yes headmaster."  
  
"Please get some sleep Severus. There is a sleeping draught waiting for you in your chambers. I suggest that you take advantage of it and get some rest. Try to put Mira out of your mind. She's safe here, and in good hands with Poppy. If Poppy says that she will recover, she will. And try not to beat yourself up over cursing her. You had no choice. Your actions ultimately saved your lives. Even though you are unable to see any good in the situation, you must not lose all hope. Because the day you stop hoping, is the day you give up, and then the battle is already won. Try and take solace in the fact that both of you are under the same roof. You can see her whenever you want, and there is more hope there than would have been had you refused to perform the curse. You're both alive, and where there's life, there's hope."  
  
"But she can't stay here Albus. She needs to get to a safer place."  
  
"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. In the meantime, rest and prepare yourself for the new term. I will arrange for a corner of the hospital ward to be screened off, and her bed moved there so that you may visit her in private. Be strong, you will need all of your skills, intelligence and strength to get yourself through the coming weeks. With the prisoners freed, Voldemort will not have time to listen to the vengeful ravings of Malfoy Sr., your cover should remain very much intact."  
  
"Yes sir."  
  
"Very well then. You may go now. If there are any changes in Mira's condition, you will be notified immediately."  
  
"Thank you headmaster. Thank you for all you have done."  
  
Dumbledore rose to walk the professor to the door. "No,my friend. Thank you for all that you have done to help us with the resistance. Once this is over with, your sacrifices will not go unnoted."  
  
Snape made his way through the school corridors, stopping briefly by the hospital ward to make sure Mira was resting comfortably. He then retired to his chambers, drank the sleeping draught, and fell into dreamless sound sleep within minutes. He slept through the day and night, waking the next morning, the day before students would be returning to the school. 


	17. Nowhere Near Back to Normal

Author's Notes: Finally an update! I had trouble getting the last 4 chapters up and running. Hopefully these will go up more smoothly. I'm uploading in batches of 4 because that's all I can realistically switch to Word format and proofread in a night. The story was started this past fall, and the disk put aside until I had more time to work with it.  
  
Thanks for all the reviews. I really hesitated to post the story, because after about the first couple of chapters I thought it was getting silly. I went back and re-wrote several, trying to improve it a bit. I started with the initial 20 chapters, and it will probably finish up at 24 or so. The story is complete, the ending chapters are just outlines being fleshed out right now. I hope to have it completely up by the end of the week.  
  
There are a few plot twists left, and some interesting character exploration in coming chapters. Maybe one more sex scene, but every time I finish rewriting it and go to review it, I hear the cheesy 70's porn soundtrack playing in my head. Heh.  
  
Oh well, on with the story.  
  
The Gryffindor trio makes their appearance as the school term begins. They experience a few growing pains, but their friendships hold sound. Everybody is tense. The growing threat of Voldemort is essentially the big pink elephant sitting in the middle of the room, which everybody tries their best to pretend isn't there. Dumbledore is confident in his ability to provide a safe haven to the students, and strives to maintain a sense of normalcy within the school walls. Snape is literally holding on by a thread, unfortunately Malfoy Jr. finds out just how slender that thread is when he goes too far in Potions class.  
  
The professor's only human you know. We've already established that in earlier chapters. He's certainly not above giving in to temptation and projecting his anger onto the first available scapegoat.  
  
Dislcaimer: None of the characters from the books and movies belong to me.  
  
Chapter 17: Nowhere Near Back To Normal.  
  
The day before start of term was very busy at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. House elves bustled about preparing the dormitories and cleaning the classrooms. Professors and other instructors made last minute changes in their lesson plans, and took stock of supplies needed for their classes. The groundskeeper made one last trip around the school, making sure all was in order. Headmaster Dumbledore took some time to reflect on the events of the summer and previous term.  
  
These were unsure times in the wizarding world. Dark forces were gaining power, and attacks upon muggle born witches and wizards as well as upon muggle sympathizers had increased. There was a not so subtle backlash against people who flaunted muggle heritage or who were open mugglephiles. Nobody wanted to court disaster by drawing undue attention to himself or herself. In an attempt to answer this growing level of prejudice, Dumbledore arranged for Muggle Studies to be a required class for all grade levels.  
  
Satisfied with his preparations for the coming term, Professor Snape left the school to take a walk to the village in order to clear his mind. He walked through the streets, seeing the familiar faces of many returning students who had come with their families to Hogsmeade for start of term tomorrow. He went to the Treadle family tailor shop, but it was closed. A sign in the window read: "Closed until further notice, all special orders may be picked up at Gladrags." He had done some snooping and found out that the entire Treadle family had packed up and went into hiding somewhere in the Middle East, probably being sheltered by one of Albert's textile industry connections. Dumbledore had sent a letter to Susan, letting her know that Mira was safe and receiving medical care, and Susan replied that regrettably, her daughter Tricia would not be returning to Hogwarts for the Fall term.  
  
The professor stopped at the tavern for a pint of ale, and then returned to the school to sit with Mira in the hospital ward for a while. She was getting better, but still completely unconscious. Madame Pomfrey said that she might remain unconscious for weeks while the negative curse energy dissipated from her body. Aside from a slight fever and pallor to her skin, she appeared to merely be sleeping. Mademoiselle Lowrey poked her head behind the screened off partition and told him that she needed to change Mira's bedclothes and he could come back and visit her later on if he wished. He rose, leaned in kissed her on the forehead, and returned to his chambers, where he read a little about the long-term effects of exposure to massive amounts of magical energy. He was reassured that Mira would probably suffer little, if any, permanent damage. He retired early for the busy day ahead, but spent most of the night tossing and turning in light fitful sleep.  
  
The day of the students' return flew by in a blur of activity and excitement. Snape completed a last minute inventory of the Potions classroom supply cabinets, making sure that the supplies he ordered were all accounted for. Satisfied that all was as it should be in his classroom, he left the dungeons to meet with Professor Vector, who had sent a message to him by pet rat the previous evening. Vector wanted to meet to discuss matters pertaining to the Dark Lord, and the rise of his followers.  
  
Vector, the Arithomancy professor, was nervous but enthusiastic about making a connection with other supporters of Voldemort within the school faculty. Snape informed her about the existence of two other instructors who had similar leanings, and suggested that they form an alliance, and he would keep them informed of events relating to the Dark Lord. After laying the groundwork for his plan to entrap the three Voldemort sympathizer professors, he returned to his chambers to freshen up and change into his new faculty robe before the start of term banquet.  
  
He arrived in the great hall just before the students were due to arrive from the village. Some came to Hogsmeade via the Hogwarts Express train, some arrived in town via floo network, and some came from nearby with their families for the day via broomstick, enchanted carriage, or portkey. But all students met at the Hogsmeade train station and traveled to the school via either horseless carriage or on rowboats across the lake.  
  
With the entire faculty assembled, headmaster Dumbledore called them together for a quick conference before the banquet. He reminded them that the term would start off as usual, and that they should do their best to prevent the uncertainty of the times from working their way into the day to day lives of the students. This was to be a haven for them, from the fear and escalating violence in the wizarding world. He praised the new faculty robes, he himself wearing a slightly more embellished version, and told them to take their seats at the head table, as the students were due to arrive at any time.  
  
The returning students, arriving by carriage, trickled into the hall first. They had some time to greet each other and talk about their summer holidays before the new students arrived and the sorting ceremony began. Many arrived tan and rested, but others had looks of uncertainty on their faces.  
  
Hermione Granger was the first Gryffindor to arrive at the banquet hall; she took her place at the house table, joined shortly by her best friends, Harry and Ron. She looked different from the last time they saw her, more grown up and worldly. Neither of the boys had seen her over the summer, she had gone on a cruise with her family and spent some time with her long distance beau, Viktor Krum. Harry greeted Hermione warmly with a brotherly hug, while Ron shrugged an aloof "Hiya Herm" in her general direction. That summer, over a couple pints of purloined ale, Ron had confessed to Harry that he fancied Hermione and was none too happy that she had been keeping company with Viktor.  
  
The trio settled in at the table and looked around to see what familiar faces were returning. On the train ride, they found out that some of their classmates were not coming to school this term, their parents having taken the families into hiding to escape the growing threat of an all out wizarding war. Most parents however, trusted that Dumbledore would provide the safest place in the country for their children, and sent them on to school.  
  
Ron elbowed Harry in the side. "Psst, Harry, look up there, what's up with the professors' robes?"  
  
Both Harry and Hermione turned to look at the head table, where the professors were sitting, chatting idly, waiting for the banquet to begin.  
  
"It looks as if they've gotten formal academic robes for special school occasions." Said Hermione.  
  
"No shit Sherlock!" Replied Ron, rolling his eyes. The two boys giggled and Hermione crossed her arms over her chest and turned to talk to Parvarti Patil about their summer holidays.  
  
The rest of the returning students took their places at the house tables, and Headmaster Dumbledore called the assembly to attention. He said a few short words about keeping those who did not return this semester in their thoughts. And to remember that as returning students, they would need to make an extra effort to help the first years adjust to school life as smoothly as possible. And finally, they should try and not dwell on current events to the point where it intruded into their school lives. He motioned for the doors to the great hall to be opened, and Professor McGonagall led the new students towards the head table for the sorting ceremony.  
  
Once all the new students had been sorted and seated at the proper house tables, Dumbledore addressed the entire student body. He told them that while the state of affairs in the wizarding world grew dire, they needed to focus on their classes and assignments. He reassured the children that Hogwarts was one of the safest places in the wizarding world, and they could rest well knowing that they were being protected by an array of sophisticated charms, spells, and other magical wards against evil. He announced that there would be no new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor; all suitable candidates were performing more pressing duties for the Ministry of Magic, therefore Professor McGonagall would be taking over the class this year. He also announced that all grade levels would be taking a mandatory Muggle Studies class. There was a buzz of hushed discussion at that announcement. He cleared his throat, regained the attention of the student body, and informed them that there would be no trips off campus to Hogsmeade, and no students would be allowed out of their dormitories after dark unless traveling with a partner, and absolutely no student was to leave the building after dark unless chaperoned by a teacher. There was an audible groan over the last set of announcements. He then wrapped up his speech, and bid the feasting to begin.  
  
Disappointment over the strict rules melted away as platters laden with every type of food materialized on the tables in front of the students. The conversation grew animated and cheerful as they dug in for their first meal of the term.  
  
Harry's attention drifted to the head table. Dumbledore and McGonagall were having an intense conversation, heads bowed close to each other. Hagrid and Professor Sprout were having a cheerful conversation while enjoying their meal, but Professor Snape had an even sourer look on his face than usual, and was merely pushing his food around on his plate with his fork. Abruptly, he dropped his fork onto his plate, pushed it away and got up from the table and swept out of the hall. Several students looked up, and a few of the professors looked away uncomfortably.  
  
"I wonder what's up with him?" Questioned Harry.  
  
"Who knows, probably just cross about having to wear that ridiculous looking robe." Shrugged Ron.  
  
"No, something's not right." Said Hermione. "All the Professors look a little tense."  
  
"Here we go again!" Sighed Ron sarcastically. "Hermione the brain has another profound revelation."  
  
"Why are you being such a jerk to me Ron? What have I ever done to you?" Snapped Hermione as she got up and excused herself from the table.  
  
"Jeez Ron, lay off of her." Said Harry.  
  
"Whose side are you on?" Replied Ron.  
  
"Neither. I'm not taking sides in this. You're both my friends, and I think you really need to think about how you're treating Hermione before you fool around and trash your friendship with her and never get a second chance to let her know how you feel."  
  
"Piss off Potter, you have no idea what it feels like to be the one who has to settle on being just friends. I suppose now you're free to make your move on Cho this term."  
  
Harry was taken aback at such a hateful comment from his supposed best friend. "I can't believe you would say such a thing Ron!" He threw his napkin down on the table and stormed out of the hall to a barrage of stares and hushed whispers among his tablemates. Ginny shot Ron a caustic look. His cheeks flushed red, and he finished his meal in silence.  
  
The next day, none of the trio had much to say to each other. Hermione was sticking close to Parvarti, and Ron was being standoffish to Harry. But the events of the second day of classes brought the trio back together before day's end.  
  
It was their first day in Potions; they were teamed up with the Slytherins again.  
  
"Oh joy, just what I dreamed of all summer. Potions with my best friends: Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle."  
  
"Don't dwell on it Harry, it'll only make the hour go by more slowly." Replied Hermione.  
  
They had not yet settled in at their tables when Professor Snape startled them. He slammed the door from the back potions lab open and stormed across the classroom to his desk. He slammed a large scroll down onto his desk with such force that the jars lined up on the edge of the desk clinked together.  
  
"Now, listen to me. I will tolerate no foolishness or misbehavior whatsoever, this term. Any student caught acting out will be given a most unpleasant detention and a hundred points will be deducted from their house score. Is that clear!"  
  
The wide-eyed students replied with a timid "yes sir, professor."  
  
"Good, now that we have reached an understanding regarding acceptable behavior in class, you may turn to page twenty-four of your texts, and read the introduction on basic wound healing salves."  
  
Draco Malfoy leaned in behind Potter and whispered: "Let's hope that it heals ugly old scars too, 'eh Potter?"  
  
"MALFOY! Come here NOW!" Bellowed the professor, his face paling to a frightening shade of white.  
  
Draco smirked and sauntered up to the professor's desk, his arms crossed cockily over his chest.  
  
"Always one to stand out in a crowd, aren't you Malfoy? Well, your clever little comment has earned you a week of detention, scrubbing the floor of the quidditch locker room by hand."  
  
Malfoy looked taken aback, the rest of the students sat staring with their mouths open.  
  
"But, professor."  
  
"NO buts, mister Malfoy! You will now clean it for TWO weeks!"  
  
Crabbe and Goyle snickered from the back of the classroom.  
  
"CRABBE! GOYLE! Since you find this so amusing, you will be assisting your little friend with his nightly chores!"  
  
The two boys groaned and clucked their tongues.  
  
"One hundred points from Slytherin! EACH!"  
  
The rest of the class gasped and looked back and forth at each other. Were they really seeing and hearing what they thought they were seeing and hearing?  
  
"Now, you will return to your seat mister Malfoy. If you think that you are able to keep your sarcastic little mouth shut and pay more attention to your studies than trying to impress your little toadies!"  
  
Blinking, and with mouth open in shock, Draco stumbled back from the professor's desk and returned to his seat, head down and cheeks burning with shame.  
  
The rest of the class went by quietly and very tensely. Afterwards, the students were abuzz with talk of how Snape raked Draco over the coals and humiliated him in front of the class. Malfoy stomped off with his two friends, grumbling about how his father "had the goods on that bastard Snape" and that the professor would live to regret ever crossing the Malfoys.  
  
Shocked by Professor Snape's outburst in Potions class, the trio called an immediate truce to their bickering and became good friends again. 


	18. The Breaking Point

Author's Notes: School has gotten off to a rocky start for our beloved Potions master. He's been pushed beyond his limits and finally reaches the end of his rope. The venting of his anger at Draco Malfoy was only the tip of the iceberg. The rage, fear, and frustration that has been building up and boiling away inside of him is about to explode.  
  
The Gryffindor trio decides to do what they do best. Snoop around in affairs that don't really concern them, and find out something that they really didn't need to know. And one of them comes out of the adventure with a little more empathy towards a bitter adversary.  
  
Disclaimer: None of the characters from the books and movies belong to me  
  
Chapter 18: The Breaking Point.  
  
Word got around the school that Malfoy owled his parents about the detention punishment he had been given in Potions class, and his father sent a howler to Dumbledore demanding that Draco be excused from serving detention because he was allergic to cleaning potions. Dumbledore refused to intervene with the punishment and wrote back that Draco would be allowed to wear protective gloves and a mask to protect him from the fumes.  
  
The first evening of detention, Draco complained of feeling ill from exposure to the cleaning potions and asked to be excused to the hospital ward. Madame Hooch excused the three of them from their task and sent them on to Madame Pomfrey to be checked out.  
  
Just as Pomfrey was finishing up examining the boys, Professor Snape entered the hospital wing.  
  
"Shit" said Draco under his breath to Crabbe and Goyle. "The bastard's already is checking up on us,"  
  
The professor was walking towards a screened off part of the hospital wing and skidded to a halt when he saw the three Slytherins sitting on cots, being attended by Madame Pomfrey.  
  
"You three had better have a very good excuse as to why you're here and not on your knees scrubbing the floor of the locker room."  
  
Pomfrey looked up at the professor. "Hooch sent them down to be checked out, mister Malfoy was complaining of feeling ill from the cleaning potions they were using despite protective gear. He claims to be quite allergic to them, but I can detect no negative reaction whatsoever."  
  
"Are they fit to return to their task?"  
  
"Why yes, there's nothing wrong with them."  
  
"Very well, I will escort them back to the locker rooms myself."  
  
The boys sighed and grumbled and got to their feet and shuffled towards the door.  
  
"By the way, has there been any change?"  
  
"No, professor, I'm afraid not yet."  
  
"Thank you, I'll be back just as soon as I ensure that these three make it back to their detention."  
  
Malfoy looked back over his shoulder with a puzzled look on his face, and then turned and sauntered off down the hallway, flanked by his friends, with the professor stalking after them.  
  
A few days later, when most of the students were in their dormitories after supper, Hermione tripped over a book left on the stairs of the Gryffindor common room. She twisted her ankle badly, and the female prefect asked Ron and Harry to help her to the hospital wing. Ron and Harry sat on the edge of a cot as the assistant nurse, Mademoiselle Lowrey, rubbed a sprain healing salve onto Hermione's ankle and wrapped it in a bandage.  
  
The assistant nurse left the room to get a painkilling draught from the supply cupboard, when Professor Snape and Madame Pomfrey emerged from a screened off area of the hospital wing. They were talking in hushed voices. The professor had his arms crossed over his chest and his head down. Pomfrey gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder, and he turned to leave. He saw the trio sitting and staring at him, stopped, and shot them a look that could freeze fire. They quickly looked away, and he turned and stalked off out the door and back down the hallway. Lowrey came back into the ward with the potion for Hermione and was stopped by Madame Pomfrey. Pomfrey said something to her and pointed at the screened off area. Lowrey handed the potion to Pomfrey, and disappeared behind the partition. Madame Pomfrey administered the potion to Hermione and instructed the boys to help her back to her dormitory. She should be fine in the morning, but would have to take it easy for a few days to make sure the ankle had healed up properly.  
  
Hermione put an arm around each of their shoulders, and they supported her in the middle and helped her back down the corridor. When they were out of earshot of the hospital wing, Hermione turned to Harry and asked; "What do you suppose that was all about?"  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"That screened off area, and Professor Snape. What were he and Pomfrey talking about? And why did she pat him on the shoulder like that?"  
  
"Maybe he's sick or something?" Replied Ron. "It'd certainly explain why he's been so much more of a prick lately."  
  
"I'd sure like to know what's behind that curtain Harry." Said Hermione. "I know, one of you two can have a minor accident, and do a little snooping when Pomfrey and Lowery aren't looking."  
  
"I don't think so!" Said Ron.  
  
"Yeah, Hermione, I'm curious too, but not curious enough to stage an accident just so I can go snooping." Said Harry.  
  
"Whatever." Quipped Hermione. "I just thought that you two might be up for a little adventure."  
  
The next day in Potions class, the students were sitting and copying the ingredient list for a potion that would render the drinker impervious to freezing weather, when there was a knock at the classroom door. Professor Snape looked up with a perturbed look on his face.  
  
"ENTER!"  
  
Mademoiselle Lowrey, the young assistant in the hospital wing, approached his desk apprehensively, and bent over to whisper something in his ear. He looked at her with a very strange look on his face. She said loudly enough for the first couple of rows of seats to hear: "You better come with me, Pomfrey wants you there."  
  
Snape pushed his chair back loudly and turned to the class.  
  
"You will finish copying the ingredient list, and once finished, place your scrolls on my desk, then you may be dismissed."  
  
Without another word, he swept out the door of the Potions classroom, and broke into a run down the corridor to the stairs. A surprised Mademoiselle Lowrey hurried after him.  
  
The class was filled with speculative whispers. Had there been a Death Eater attack? Was a special potion needed to heal a student? Hermione, Ron, and Harry, leaned in very close to each other.  
  
"Okay, now I'm convinced something's up with Professor Snape and whatever's behind that screen." Said Hermione.  
  
"I have to agree." Said Harry. "How can we get a look to see what's back there?"  
  
"I'll stage an accident this afternoon." Said Ron. I'll do something in Herbology to get sent to the hospital wing."  
  
Snape ran through the corridors of the school, taking the shortest route to the hospital wing. Classes were in session, so there were very few people out and about in the hallways, but a few startled students had to move out of his way as he ran past.  
  
He found the door of the hospital ward barred by Hagrid, who stepped out of the way when the professor came running around the corner and towards him. Snape was intercepted by Headmaster Dumbledore, as he exited the partitioned off corner of the infirmary.  
  
Snape nearly collided with the older wizard, and struggled to find his voice as he caught his breath.  
  
"What's happening Albus? Lowrey told me that her fever had peaked and she was having seizures."  
  
"Calm down Severus, she'll be fine. Poppy tells me that this is a good thing. Her body is fighting the negative curse energy, forcing it out of her cells."  
  
"Can I see her?"  
  
"No, not just yet, Poppy is attending to her, she gave her a sedative to settle her down. She's still unconscious, but the fever has broken. She has apparently made it through the hardest part and it should just be a matter of time until she regains consciousness. Sit, they will let you see her when they finish."  
  
The professor sat on the edge of a cot, and ran his fingers through his hair, rested his head in his hand, and finished catching his breath. Lowrey finally arrived, not having run all the way from the potions dungeon. She looked at the two wizards and hurried over to the partition where Mira was being treated. Dumbledore sat down beside Snape and put a fatherly hand on his shoulder.  
  
A few moments later, Poppy and Lowrey emerged from behind the screens, and walked over to where the two men sat.  
  
"She's resting peacefully again. The motionless sleep draught settled her down. This was the worst of it, and I'm happy to say that she pulled through with flying colors. You can go see her now Professor, but remember she's heavily sedated. Oh, after the potion wears off, she will not be in as deep of a state of unconsciousness. If you wish, you may talk to her, read to her, play music for her, whatever you choose. She'll be a state of semi-awareness. Her mind is fine, but her body is using all of its reserves to force the curse energy out of her cells."  
  
"Thank you Poppy." Said Snape as he stood up and entered the private area where Mira was lying on her cot. The signs of the internal struggle were evident. A faint sheen of perspiration glazed her forehead, and her hair was damp and matted. Her face was flushed pink and no longer had a ghostly pallor. She had a strange smell about her, like overripe fruit. Snape assumed it was a side effect of her body expelling the curse energy from its cells. He smoothed her hair with his hand, and tucked the sheet over her shoulders so that she wouldn't get a draft. He would ask Mademoiselle Lowrey to clean and comb out Mira's hair so that it didn't become badly tangled. Satisfied that she was resting soundly and out of danger, he stroked her cheek, and returned to his classroom. The students had all left, their papers sitting neatly in a stack on the corner of his desk. He didn't have class again until later in the afternoon, so he retired to his chambers for a long lunch, punctuated by a large cup of heavily brandied tea.  
  
Later in the afternoon, the Gryffindor fifth year students had Herbology with Professor Sprout in the school gardens. The assignment that day was to prune the branches of the Fairy Alder hedges that formed a natural wall for the formal gardens. Fairy Alders formed blossoms that were attractive to garden fairies, and they would flit around in the branches on nights the flowers were in full bloom.  
  
Ron gave Harry and Hermione a knowing glance and nicked his hand with the pruning shears.  
  
"Ow! Ow! Ow! Professor Sprout! I cut my hand!"  
  
The plump and rosy-cheeked witch hurried to see what had happened.  
  
"Oh dear, let's have a look at it Mr. Weasley."  
  
Ron held out his hand, which had a nasty little cut just below the thumb.  
  
"My goodness. You'll have to go to the hospital ward for this, and let Madame Pomfrey or her assistant take a look. You'll need a Tetanus potion for sure. Now, go straight to the infirmary Mr. Weasley, don't mess about in the corridors."  
  
"Yes m'aam Professor Sprout." Replied Ron as he headed towards the castle, looking back over his shoulder at his two friends, giving them a thumbs up and a wink.  
  
Ron entered the infirmary, and called out for Madame Pomfrey. Her assistant Lowrey came out of the back room.  
  
"How can I help you dear?" The younger witch asked.  
  
"I cut my hand in Herbology, and Professor Sprout sent me to get checked out by Madame Pomfrey."  
  
"Oh my. She's not here right now; she went to meet with the headmaster about something. I can take a look though, let me see your hand."  
  
Ron sheepishly held out his hand for the young woman. She was quite pretty, and he blushed as she took his hand to see the cut.  
  
"Yes, you sure did get a nasty cut. You'll need to have it cleaned, bandaged, and also take a Tetanus potion I'm afraid."  
  
"Whatever you think Mademoiselle Lowrey."  
  
"Well, just sit right there and I'll be back with the potion and bandages."  
  
Lowrey disappeared into the supply room. As soon as she was out of sight, Ron leapt up from his cot and ran to the screened off partition in the corner of the room. He heard footsteps in the hallway outside the hospital wing and only got a quick peek at the patient on the cot. It was a woman, but not one of the professors. Her face looked familiar, but he couldn't place it. He barely made it back to his cot when Madame Pomfrey entered the infirmary.  
  
"Mister Weasley, what are you doing here?"  
  
"I cut my hand in Herbology, Mademoiselle Lowrey went to fetch a potion and some bandages for me."  
  
Pomfrey took his hand and gave it a close inspection.  
  
"Yes, a nasty little cut. But within her abilities to treat. Please excuse me, I have something to attend to."  
  
Pomfrey entered the screened off area, and Mademoiselle Lowrey returned with the supplies needed to tend to Ron's wound. He made a brave face, even when the stinging cleansing tincture was applied to the cut. Lowrey broke a piece of chocolate off of a large bar, handed it to him, and sent him on his way.  
  
"Here, this will take the nasty taste of the Tetanus potion away."  
  
Ron blushed again and hurried off to the Gryffindor common rooms, where he was to meet with Harry and Hermione to let them know what he found in the hospital wing.  
  
The other two must have ran straight from Herbology, because they were the first ones back to the common rooms following afternoon classes.  
  
"Harry, Hermione, I got a chance to peek behind the partition. It's a woman. But she's not a teacher. And I don't think she works at the school at all."  
  
"What was she doing there?" Asked Hermione.  
  
"How should I know, she was just lying there, like she was sleeping."  
  
"We've got to go get a closer look. Harry, do you have your invisibility cloak with you this term?"  
  
"Yes, it's in my trunk."  
  
"Good. You, Ron, and I will meet downstairs in the common room at 10 o' clock, just after lights out, and we'll go see what we can find out about her."  
  
Other students started trickling in to get ready for supper, and the trio returned to their respective dormitories to prepare as well.  
  
They didn't speak a word about their plan during supper. And returned to the common rooms and went through the motions of finishing their evening routines and getting ready for bed.  
  
At the appointed hour, Harry crept soundlessly from his bed, taking the cloak he had stashed under his pillow. He pulled back the curtains on Ron's bed, and pointed at his watch. Ron nodded in understanding and silently slipped his shoes on and crept out of his bed. The boys pulled the invisibility cloak over them, and crept down the stairs to the common room. Hermione was hiding behind a chair in a darkened corner, out of sight from house prefects who did a sweep of the common rooms just after lights out to make sure any stragglers were sent straight up to bed. She crept across the room to where Harry was motioning with his hand, and pulled the cloak over her as well.  
  
They silently exited their house quarters, and made their way through the sleeping castle to the hospital wing. They passed Mr. Filch in the hallway, but his cat was not with him, and he paid them no notice. The hospital wing was empty, only a faint glow of dimmed torches on the wall and the glow of a lamp shining from inside the screened area. They heard a muffled voice coming from the area of the partition. As they approached more closely, they recognized it as belonging to Professor Snape. They exchanged puzzled looks as they peered around the edge of the partition. The professor was sitting on a chair at the head of the bed, reading to the sleeping woman from an old leather bound book. They moved back out of earshot, and Hermione performed a silencing charm on the cloak, rendering the cloak soundproof. They slowly returned to the edge of the partition and peered around again.  
  
"What's he reading to her?" Asked Ron. "It's nothing I've ever heard before."  
  
"It's from Shakespeare." Replied Hermione. "A muggle poet and playwright from several centuries ago."  
  
"I know who Shakespeare is Hermione, give me some credit." Snapped Ron.  
  
"Quiet you two!" said Harry.  
  
They watched as he continued to read to the sleeping woman. He finished and put the book on the bedside table. He reached up and stroked her hair gently, smoothing it off of her forehead. The trio exchanged very puzzled looks and watched in silence as the professor leaned over and rested his elbows on his knees, and his head in his hands. He sat back up, with a very distant and sad look on his face, and wiped tears from the corners of his eyes. He stood to leave, turned back to the woman, and reached out to touch her cheek. He took a deep breath, ran his fingers through his stringy black hair, turned and stalked out of the hospital wing with his robes trailing behind him.  
  
"Come on!" Said Harry. "Let's follow him!"  
  
The trio had to run to keep pace with the professor who was moving quickly through the corridors, back towards his dungeon chambers. He nearly slammed the door right off the hinges when he reached the potions classroom. The trio crept through the open door into the classroom, and hid behind the professor's desk as he passed through the classroom into his potions laboratory.  
  
Hermione let out a gasp as they began to hear crashing and breaking glass combined with unintelligible swearing and screaming. Professor Snape was on a rampage, tearing up the potions lab. Overturning tables, throwing chairs across the room, and smashing cauldrons and jars against the walls.  
  
Harry turned to Ron and Hermione. "Come on, we should go get Dumbledore."  
  
"No WAY Harry!" Replied Ron. "We're not supposed to be out of our beds at this hour, we can't do that!"  
  
Hermione was about to speak when they heard a thunderous crash followed by a howling roar that sent shivers down their spine.  
  
They looked at each other with horrified looks on their faces.  
  
"Oh NO! Snape's turning into a werewolf!" Cried Ron.  
  
"Come on, let's see what's happening." Said Harry.  
  
They got up from their hiding place behind the professor's desk and cautiously approached the door to his potions laboratory. In the dim torchlight, they could barely make out the details of a scene of destruction. Broken glass and shattered tables and chairs everywhere. Dented and cracked cauldrons lay here and there on the ground. Sitting on the ground, against the upturned main workbench, was Professor Snape, his knees drawn up to his chest, arms clasped around his legs, chest heaving with hoarse gasping breaths.  
  
"Come on you two, this is seriously not right. We shouldn't be seeing this." Said Hermione, as she got up and started backing away from the doorway, underneath the cloak. The boys jumped up and they all three ran out of the potions classroom.  
  
Peeves the poltergeist was bouncing off the dungeon walls, cackling with maniacal laughter, calling out with a taunting voice into the potions dungeons: "Poor prince charming can't wake his sleeping beauty with a kiss. What a shame. Maybe he's just a warty old toad after all!"  
  
Undetected by Peeves, they ran all the way back to the common room and huddled in the corner, under the soundproofed invisibility cloak to try and understand what they had just witnessed. Hermione was shaking, Harry was very pale, and Ron's eyes were as big as saucers.  
  
"I don't know what we just saw, but it's definitely not good." Said Hermione.  
  
"Did you hear him, did you hear that sound he made?" Asked Ron with a shudder.  
  
"He's lost it." Said Harry.  
  
"What should we do?" Asked Hermione.  
  
"Nothing." Replied Harry "I mean, what can we do?".  
  
"Who do you suppose she is? Snape's not married, is he? I mean, she can't be his wife can she?" Asked Ron.  
  
"No, I don't think he has any family, that's probably why he lives in the castle." Replied Harry.  
  
"Then she must be his girlfriend." Said Hermione.  
  
"Yeah, but Hermione, you're forgetting one thing. What woman in her right mind would fancy somebody like him?" Replied Ron.  
  
The trio decided to return to their dormitories, removed the cloak and crept up the staircase to their respective quarters. None of them slept the rest of the night, Ron especially kept shuddering whenever he thought of the noise the professor had made. "Not good." He said to himself. "Not good at all." 


	19. A Welcome Gift and a Big Surprise

Author's Notes: Following his outburst, the professor has a change in demeanor. He managed to release some of the anger that he had built up inside of him, but at what price?  
  
The fall term goes out with a bang, leaving the students and faculty abuzz with shock and speculation. Somebody gets a special Christmas gift, and our friend, Mira, drops a bombshell.  
  
Disclaimer: None of the characters from the books and movies belong to me.  
  
Chapter 19: A Welcome Gift and a Big Surprise.  
  
The next morning, the Gryffindor trio was very surprised to see Professor Snape sitting at his desk when they arrived for Potions class. They were sure that he had been hauled away to St. Mungo's in a straitjacket. They warily took their places and waited for class to begin. There was no actual potion making that day, just taking notes about common plants that grow wild in England, which can be used to brew very simple, but effective potions. The mood in class was very low key; Snape gave no detentions, nor took away any house points. Instead of his usual sarcastic wit, he seemed merely weary. Harry found himself feeling sorry for the professor, which he found profoundly disturbing.  
  
No mention was ever made about the professor's breakdown, and by the next week, the upper level students were continuing on with Potions classes in a newly refurbished laboratory. Snape remained distracted, and didn't seem to care any more about giving detentions, taking away house points, or even harassing Potter and Longbottom in class. Most students welcomed the change in the professor's demeanor, and enjoyed the respite from their usual Potions class experience. Hermione, Ron, and Harry however, knew that the professor was suffering. Hermione pledged to find out what she could about the woman in the hospital ward. The following week passed without event.  
  
Hermione came running into the Gryffindor common rooms one evening after spending a couple of hours hanging out with the Hufflepuff girls in the great hall after supper. "Harry, Ron! Come quickly! I know who she is!" The boys abandoned their game of wizard's chess and followed Hermione to the owlery under the pretense of sending a letter home.  
  
They arrived, and made sure that they were alone before Hermione started to talk. "I found out who the woman in the infirmary is. Do you remember a Hufflepuff girl named Tricia Treadle? She was a first year last year, and she didn't return for classes this year."  
  
Harry shook his head no, but Ron's face lit up with recognition. "Yeah, I remember her. She was a friend of Ginny's. Ginny said that her family lived in Hogsmeade, but her mother wanted her to go to Hogwarts instead of the day school."  
  
Hermione looked at Ron and smiled. "Right, anyway, the woman is Tricia's aunt. Well, not really her aunt, her mother's cousin."  
  
"So, how did you find all of this out Hermione?" Asked Harry.  
  
"Simple. I was sitting with some of the Hufflepuffs, and I overheard one say that she had tried to get an owl to Tricia but it came back as undeliverable. Another girl said that her mother told her that Tricia's mother and her mother's cousin had been attacked by Death Eaters. Tricia's family packed up and went into hiding, and the cousin was being treated for her injuries in an undisclosed location for her own protection. I knew she looked familiar. Think Harry, where have you seen her before?"  
  
Harry shook his head and shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know. She does look familiar, I know I've seen her before, but I don't know where."  
  
"Ron, do you remember where you met her?"  
  
"No Hermione, I mean, like Harry said, she looks familiar, but I don't remember her."  
  
"She lives in Hogsmeade. She works at Tricia's family tailor shop." She's who my parents ordered my dress robes from."  
  
"I didn't get my robes at Treadle's, and mum didn't get Harry's there either, she got them in Diagon Alley."  
  
"But you have seen her in Hogsmeade, haven't you?"  
  
Harry shook his head. "Yeah, now I remember her. I've seen her in passing."  
  
Ron shook his head. "Me too. Never spoke with her, but I've seen her in Honeyduke's buying sweets to send to her niece at Hogwarts."  
  
Hermione looked at both of them smugly. "So, now we know who she is. Professor Snape must have met her in the village and started to fancy her before she was attacked."  
  
Harry commented: "He must have done more than just fancy her Hermione, judging from the reaction he had over her being sick in the infirmary. You don't go mad like that over somebody you just have a crush on."  
  
Ron turned to Hermione and said: "He's right you know. Snape must be in love with her, although I just can't imagine that great black bat feeling anything remotely like love. I never figured him to you know, be a normal man or anything. He always seemed to be either angry or disgusted, never happy or sad."  
  
The trio silently returned to their house dormitory, silently contemplating this information, that their Potions professor was really human after all and actually had feelings. Harry actually felt bad for Professor Snape; he knew how much it hurt to have somebody you cared for harmed by evil forces. His opinion of the man changed a little. Instead of contempt, Harry felt a little bit of empathy for his professor.  
  
The days continued to pass by without incident, the students having fallen into their normal routines. Everything went smoothly until one morning in mid November. News of the night's events spread through the school like wildfire. During the wee hours, a team of Aurors had arrived with ministry officials and arrested three faculty members who were accused of conspiring together as sympathizers of You Know Who, and plotting against Dumbledore. The guilty parties were Professors Vector and Sinestra, as well as Pince the librarian. With McGonagall already taking over the Defense Against the Dark Arts classes this term, Professor Binns took Vector's classes, and Professor Flitwick took Sinestra's. The library was kept running by the assistant librarian.  
  
Everybody was on edge, waiting for the Christmas holidays to arrive. Some students said that they wouldn't be returning for the spring term. Others said that they wanted to stay at the school, where at least it was safer than their homes. Hermione's parents were taking her to spend the holidays in Switzerland, to give her a change of pace from England and the troubles in the wizarding world. They generously offered to bring Harry and Ron along with them, and once Ron confirmed that Viktor Krum was history and would not be joining them as well, he was enthusiastic about the trip. Sirius was more than happy to send permission for Harry to get out of the country for a while and away from the growing tensions of the wizarding world. They would be traveling by muggle train, under the English Channel to France, and then on to Switzerland after changing trains in Paris. Ron had never traveled by muggle train and was especially excited.  
  
The excitement grew as the holidays approached. On the final day of classes, Dumbledore arranged for a large going away feast in the great hall. The hall was decorated with enormous Christmas trees, covered in sparkling and shimmering ornaments. Huge garlands of evergreen were strung beneath the enchanted ceiling of the great hall, the snow seeming to disappear before reaching them. There were Christmas crackers, and fancy puddings at every place at the house tables.  
  
The professors were enjoying the start of the holidays as well. If not for the three conspicuously empty chairs at the head table, it would have been like any other Christmas feast. The only person at the head table not getting into the holiday spirit was Professor Snape, who was absentmindedly twirling a large Christmas cracker around in his hand while staring off into space.  
  
At first, nobody noticed the hospital ward assistant, Mademoiselle Lowrey, enter the hall and approach the head table. She leaned in to say something to Headmaster Dumbledore, and Professor Snape dropped the Christmas cracker and leaned over the table, trying to see what was going on.  
  
"Harry, Ron! Look!" Hermione gestured to the head table with a candy cane.  
  
"I wonder what's going on? You don't think it has anything to do with the lady in the infirmary do you?"  
  
"What else could it be?" Answered Harry.  
  
Dumbledore looked at the young woman and smiled. She crossed over to where Professor Snape was sitting, his hands on the table, on the edge of his seat. She whispered something into his ear, and turned and hurried back out the door. Snape looked quickly towards Dumbledore, and the older man smiled and nodded his head, gesturing towards the door. Snape rose from his chair, his face briefly broke out into a nervous sort of smile, and he hurried out the side entrance of the great hall.  
  
"Bloody Hell!" Exclaimed Ron. "Did you see that? Professor Snape SMILED! It was only for a second, but I swear, I saw him SMILE!"  
  
The professor's very out of character expression was not lost on the rest of the student body and faculty. The entire hall was soon abuzz with speculation of just what was going on.  
  
"I tell you, he's gone mental!" Said Ron to nobody in particular.  
  
Professor Snape ran through the corridors, to the hospital wing. He felt relief and even happiness, an emotion he had not felt in many, many years. Lowrey had said that Mira regained consciousness. She was still disoriented and confused, but she was awake.  
  
He arrived in the hospital wing, and was met by Madame Pomfrey.  
  
"She's awake professor, but she needs a few minutes to get her bearings. She asked for a change of clothes, and I sent Lowrey to inform you and the headmaster that she was awake, and then to go find some robes for her. Once Lowrey returns and helps Mira get changed and cleaned up, you can see her. But right now she needs some breathing room. She's very confused and a little frightened."  
  
Snape sat down on a cot, nervously ran his fingers through his hair, and breathed a heavy sigh of relief. Lowrey returned to the infirmary, carrying a bundle of clothing in her arms, followed shortly thereafter by Headmaster Dumbledore.  
  
The older man approached the professor and said with an impish grin: "I must say Severus, you have caused quite a deal of confusion among your students and colleagues. I can't remember having seen you smile about anything since your days as a student here at Hogwarts. The most popular opinion is that somebody slipped a mood altering potion into your mulled mead, followed closely with somebody having placed the Imperius curse onto you."  
  
"Albus, I know I said that I didn't know if I could ever look her in the eye again, but none of that matters now. I'm just relieved that she's okay. Now that she's recovered, we have to get her to a safe hiding place."  
  
"Is she not safe here, Severus?"  
  
"She can't stay. We can't expect her to remain here, locked up in the school. What happens the next time I'm summoned? After the incident with Malfoy in the alleyway, and venting my anger at him on his son the first week of class, I won't make it back alive. I'm sure Malfoy has tried to convince Voldemort that I set Vector, Pince, and Sinestra up for capture. If not, he'd have no qualms about taking matters into his own hands to get rid of me."  
  
"We'll cross that bridge if and when we come to it. Right now, you should concentrate on your lady friend. Make the best of the time that you have with her Severus, because it may truly be all too short."  
  
Pomfrey and Lowrey emerged from behind the screen. "She's ready to see you now. But remember, she doesn't know where she is, or how she got here. She's quite confused and afraid. Do try and not say anything that could upset her, she's still quite fragile and any little upset could put her over the edge and send her into shock."  
  
Dumbledore nodded to Snape, and he got up and went to Mira. She was sitting, propped up against a pile of pillows, sipping a mug of steaming tea. Her hair was freshly washed and combed back off of her face. She looked a little tired and weak, but the color had returned to her cheeks and she was awake. She looked up at him with a confused look on her face as he entered the partition.  
  
"Professor. What are you doing here? And where is here? The nurses told me that I was attacked and brought here to recover, but they haven't told me anything else."  
  
Snape sat down in the chair at Mira's bedside took the tea from her, set it down and took her hand in his. "Mira, the night we went flying, after I left you at the store, you were abducted by Death Eaters and attacked by Voldemort and his followers. You were taken to an alley, and narrowly escaped with your life. I found you, and brought you back to Hogwarts. You've been unconscious for quite some time. It's Christmastime Mira."  
  
She looked at him strangely, and then a look of recognition came over her face. Followed closely by a look of fear.  
  
"No! Professor! My cousin! They took Suzie too! Tricia? What happened to Suzie and Tricia?"  
  
"It's okay Mira, please, it's okay. They let Susan go, and her husband took she and Tricia into hiding. They're safe and sound Mira. It's okay."  
  
She looked at him and let the information sink in. Then she turned a ghostly shade of white, gasped, and pulled her hand out of his and brought them both to her mouth. Her eyes grew large with panic and her hands started to tremble.  
  
"Mira, what is it? What's wrong?"  
  
"The church. I remember a church. And a horrible looking man, and men in masks, and."  
  
She recoiled back into the pile of pillows and screamed.  
  
"Oh my God! Oh my God! The man with the ring! The man with the wand! The curse! Oh my God! I thought it was a nightmare, it was real!  
  
She grabbed his hands. "Professor, it was real! The man on the altar! The men in the masks! The man with the ring! The man with the wand! The alleyway!"  
  
She buried her face in her hands and started to cry. "NO! NO! NO! Oh God it was REAL!" She began to tremble and started to hyperventilate.  
  
Pomfrey came rushing into the partition. "What's happened professor?"  
  
"Poppy, she remembered what happened to her the night she was brought here. She thought it was a nightmare, but she's remembering every last bit of it."  
  
"Professor, I must ask you to give me room to work. I need to calm her before she has a complete and irreversible breakdown. Go fetch Lowrey, tell her I need the strongest soothing potion we have in stock, NOW!"  
  
Snape stumbled back out from behind the partition, and grabbed Mademoiselle Lowrey by the hand. "Please hurry, the strongest soothing potion!"  
  
Lowrey ran to the supply room. Mira's cries behind the partition grew more panicked and loud. Pomfrey desperately tried to calm her, but there was nothing she could do to stop the horror of what happened that night from rushing back into Mira's consciousness.  
  
"LOWREY! Bring me that potion NOW!"  
  
Lowrey ran from the supply room, tears streaming down her face, with a bottle of violet liquid in her hands.  
  
Snape started to follow her, but Dumbledore grabbed him by the arm. "No Severus. Stay here and let them work."  
  
He started to pace, nervously running his hands through his hair, and casting fearful glances at the partition every time Mira's cries grew louder.  
  
"Mira, drink it love! You have to drink the potion! No! Mira, please! Drink the potion! LOWREY! HOLD HER STILL!"  
  
From behind the screen, there came a gagging noise, then choking. After that, Mira's cries were less panicked and turned into soft whimpers and sobs. Eventually there was silence. Lowrey fled to the supply room with the half empty potion bottle, stifling back tears. Pomfrey emerged looking pale and shaken.  
  
"I had to get Lowrey to hold her down so I could force it down her throat. She's still conscious, but not very alert. It takes a little while for the potion to reach its full effects. I need to rest for a little bit, this has taken a lot out of me. I haven't treated such a serious case in years. Both of you go and sit with her. She'll sleep for a while, but when she wakes up, she will be much calmer after having gotten over the shock of how she got here."  
  
Snape looked up at Dumbledore. "I can't go back in there, Albus. I can't face her knowing what I've done. She has no idea. She's looking to me for comfort and she has no idea that it was me who put that curse on her. How can I go to her knowing what I've done to her?"  
  
Dumbledore placed his hand on the professor's shoulder. "You will go in there and see her because you cared enough about her that you were willing to go to such great lengths to try and save her. Don't think for a moment that I am unaware of the effect it has had on you. You did not refurbish your potions lab for the fun of it Severus. I was very concerned for you that night. I was convinced that you'd either rush out and do something foolish and get yourself killed, or that you would sink further into despair and never recover. She has awakened something within your spirit that had been given up for dead many years ago. You will go to her now, because everything you are trying to deny that you feel is telling you to."  
  
Snape looked at the headmaster. "Thank you. Thank you Albus for everything you have done for me."  
  
Dumbledore patted him on the shoulder, and gestured towards the screened area.  
  
Snape rose, straightened his robes, and went to Mira's bedside, followed closely by Dumbledore. Mira was lying down, her hair sweaty and tangled, violet stains from the potion on her pillow. Her eyes were closed and her chest rose and fell with deep rhythmical breaths.  
  
He sat and watched her for what seemed like hours before she awoke. She drowsily opened her eyes, turned her head and looked at Snape.  
  
"Professor?"  
  
"Yes Mira, I'm here."  
  
"I want to sit up. Can you help me up?"  
  
Snape picked up the extra pillows from the floor, and reached around Mira's shoulders and pulled her forward as the headmaster tucked the extra pillows behind her back. She settled back against the stack of soft pillows and looked at Dumbledore.  
  
"Thanks. Who is that man?"  
  
Dumbledore took her hand and patted it. "I'm Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of the Hogwarts School."  
  
"So, I was brought here after the attack?"  
  
"Yes. Severus found you outside of an alleyway. You had been badly hurt. He brought you here to the school and we have been nursing you back to health for the past several weeks."  
  
She looked up at the older man's kind face.  
  
"Oh God headmaster. It was horrible. I thought it was a nightmare, but it was real."  
  
"It's okay Mira. You're safe here with us. Your cousin and her family are safe too. It's over. You survived it, and you're going to be okay."  
  
"But why? Why me? Why did they do this to me?"  
  
Snape took her hand and sat down beside her.  
  
"They thought you had a magical artifact that they wanted. They thought that it had been traced to you, and they were prepared to go as far as necessary to get you to tell them where it was, what it was, and how it worked."  
  
Mira sank back into the pillows and let her focus wander as the professor continued talking.  
  
"But you didn't know anything about it, they were mistaken."  
  
Mira took a breath and let out a deep sigh.  
  
"That's not entirely true." She said as she turned her face towards Snape.  
  
The two men exchanged surprised looks, and Snape leaned in close to her. "What do you mean, not entirely true?"  
  
"I lied to them."  
  
Snape stood up and ran his fingers through his hair. "What do you mean, you lied to them, Mira?"  
  
"Just what I said. I lied to them. I know what it is, where it is, and what it does. It's been in my possession ever since my parents' death."  
  
Snape sat down and looked at Mira with a shocked look on his face.  
  
"Sweet Merlin." Said Dumbledore. "This certainly complicates things." 


	20. Adventure Beckons

Author's Notes: We see that Mira can be quite manipulative if it suits her. Snape is about to get yanked completely out of his comfort zone and he will not like it one bit. Dumbledore seems to have faith in the scheme that Mira has cooked up though.  
  
Disclaimer: Nothing recognized from the books or movies belongs to me.  
  
Chapter 20: Adventure beckons.  
  
Professor Snape looked at Mira with a shocked and disconcerted look on his face. Trying to process what she had just said.  
  
"Why did you lie to me Mira? When I asked you about the artifact?"  
  
She gave his hand a squeeze and looked up at him. "Because I didn't know what your interest in it was. I didn't know what you wanted it for. I'm so sorry for lying to you, but I had to know that you wouldn't try and obtain it and exploit it."  
  
Dumbledore twined his fingers together and rested his chin on them, deep in thought. He looked down at Mira.  
  
"Mira, you must be very convinced that this artifact has tremendous potential to do harm if you resisted the Cruciatus curse in order to conceal its whereabouts."  
  
"Headmaster, it has limitless potential for either good or evil."  
  
"How does it work? What exactly does it do?"  
  
"It allows magic to be undone."  
  
Snape moved forward in his chair.  
  
"What do you mean by undone Mira?"  
  
"I mean that it allows the user to undo or nullify any magical act: Reverse a spell, or curse. Void a charm or ward. Render a potion useless."  
  
"Any magical act? Even major curses? Even the unforgiveable curses?"  
  
"Even the killing curse if used within the first hour after death."  
  
"My God Mira. No wonder Voldemort has been searching for it for so many years. He could finally have the upper hand with a thing like that."  
  
"Precisely. That's why I knew I couldn't admit to knowing where it was or even what it was. I knew that he would be unstoppable with it."  
  
"How does it work Mira?"  
  
"Aaah. There's a catch. It has some very significant limitations. It's called the Inner Eye of Isis. It's an ancient moonstone. It was carved and enchanted thousands of years ago, by people who had magic beyond our comprehension. The legend says that it was worn by ancient priestesses during important rituals. It draws its power from both the moon and the aura of a woman. Because of how it gets its power, it can only be used by a witch, and only used once every twenty-eight days, after a full cycle of the moon has passed. But it works by allowing the witch wearing it to focus her aura, and amplify her magical energy through the pull of the moon, and perform an act similar to time reversal. I've used it once, to test its powers. It works."  
  
"How did you come to own it Mira, and where is it now?"  
  
"When my parents were killed, I inherited their store, and stayed on in New Orleans for some time. I was clearing out my parents' belongings when I came across my mother's diary. I picked it up to pack it away, and an envelope with my name on it fell from between the pages. It said that if I found this letter, that it was time for me to claim my birthright. There was a little map of an old plantation house that had once belonged to a member of my family. There was something important hidden in the attic. And my mother meant for me to have it after her death. I went to the plantation, which is being used as a bed and breakfast inn these days, and retrieved the artifact. It was a jeweled pendant in a velvet pouch. A scroll in the pouch explained what it was, how it worked, and that it had been passed down from generation to generation of women in our family for centuries. It was to be left to me instead of Suzette because our parents felt that somebody not so heavily invested in the magical world would be less inclined to use it, for good or evil. I realized just how powerful it was, and what kind of potential it had, and I returned it immediately to its hiding place and told no one about it."  
  
"Mira, tell me where it is, and I will go retrieve it and bring it back to England so that it can be used to fight Voldmort and his followers."  
  
"No Severus. If anybody brings it back to England, it'll be me."  
  
"Don't be foolish Mira. This is dangerous business. If you're intercepted, they'll kill you for it."  
  
"Maybe it should remain where it is then."  
  
Snape stood back up and ran his hands through his hair. "MIRA! Be reasonable!" He snapped.  
  
"No, YOU be reasonable! Have you ever been to muggle America? Do you know how to navigate a large muggle city? Do you know how to walk the thin line between magic and muggle and know who is who when many pretend to be the opposite?"  
  
"For Merlin's sake Mira. Just tell me where it is, and I will go and get it!"  
  
Dumbledore stepped forward and placed a hand on Snape's shoulder. "Calm down Severus. I think I have a compromise. Mira? Would you be willing to take Severus with you to retrieve the artifact? He's quite a powerful and accomplished wizard, and I would trust him with my life. He'll do everything he can to keep you safe."  
  
She looked up at Snape, then back at Dumbledore.  
  
"Okay. We go together to bring it back. But I carry it back, because it belongs to me. I get to decide who will use it and how it will be used for the first time here in England. Once Voldemort is defeated, it returns to me and I put it back into hiding. Is that a deal?"  
  
Snape gave Dumbledore a pleading look. The older man looked at the woman leaning against the pillows.  
  
"Severus certainly was right about you my dear. You are much more the witch than you appear to be at first glance. It's a deal. Take him with you for protection, retrieve the artifact, return with it to England, and you can choose who will carry it and how it will be first used."  
  
"When do we leave?"  
  
"Poppy says you still need some rest. You may leave tomorrow. In the meanwhile, I would like for you and Professor Snape to come up with a plan in case you run into trouble. And you need to brief him regarding what he will encounter in the muggle world. I'm afraid his forays outside of the wizarding community have been brief and few in number."  
  
Dumbledore left the two to discuss their upcoming mission. Snape was quite angry with Mira for manipulating and monopolizing the mission to suit her specifications. He still believed that it was much too dangerous for her, and he could quickly retrieve the artifact without being intercepted.  
  
"I'm sorry Severus. I trust you, and I trust in your magical abilities. But you don't know my home like I do, and you would be vulnerable in such a foreign place. The artifact is very well hidden, and one cannot just apparate in and fetch it. It will time to get to it."  
  
"Mira, this is against my better judgment. I nearly lost you in that alleyway, and I don't want to let you out of the safety of this castle."  
  
"It's okay. I understand the risks. But whatever happens, I want to be there with you, and face it along side you. I don't want to be left behind."  
  
"Mira, you don't know what you're saying. You know very little about me, and I simply am not worth such a risk of your life."  
  
"Then thank the fates that fortune has looked upon you with favor."  
  
She pulled him down towards her, and kissed him softly on the lips.  
  
"As Madame Pomfrey said. I need my rest. My mind is made up, I'm going with you. I'd argue with you more, but I'm afraid I need to go to sleep now."  
  
He started to argue back, then decided against it, turned and took his leave from the hospital wing.  
  
Professor Snape returned to his potions lab, and unlocked the cabinet where he kept his most potent and exotic potions. He sorted through them, removing several small vials, and then locked the cabinet and performed the magical security charm on it. He did the same with his personal potions stash in his chambers. One by one, he fitted the crystal vials into long thin boxes meant to hold and protect them during transport. He gathered together things he might need on the mission, and packed them in the pockets of his robe.  
  
He had a light supper in his quarters and sat in front of the fireplace, worrying about all that could go wrong on this mission, and why on Earth Dumbledore had ever agreed to allow Mira to call the shots. He was also quite worried about the fact that Mira's home in New Orleans was in a predominately muggle district, and she kept a virtually all muggle house. He had never spent more than a brief amount of time outside of the magical world, and he was quite apprehensive about venturing so far away from what was familiar and comfortable to him, especially in a foreign country.  
  
Mira awoke the next morning, got herself ready, and waited for Snape and Dumbledore to send for her in the infirmary. A house elf arrived in the hospital ward at a quarter past ten in the morning and led Mira to Dumbledore's office where he and Snape were waiting for her. Dumbledore had some items for her to take on the journey. A silver matchbox portkey, identical to the one given to Snape. The headmaster explained that if she found herself in deep trouble, and unable to escape, she could reach into her pocket, and squeeze the matchbox tightly in her palm, and be instantly transported back to Hogwarts. If they wound up in a situation where Snape was hurt or otherwise incapacitated, Mira could do as he had done the night he rescued her from the alleyway, and press the matchbox between their palms, and they would both be transported back to the school. Mira thanked him for the portkey and placed it in her pocket. He also gave her what appeared to be a tiny sneakascope on a chain to be worn around her neck. He explained that it would vibrate if somebody nearby intended to do her harm.  
  
After a few brief words, Dumbledore asked how they were going to make the journey to New Orleans.  
  
"We obviously can't fly, it's just too great of a distance. Same with apparating or via the floo network. The only way to get there quickly is to use a portkey. There's a portkey, but it's at my cousin's house. They wouldn't have taken it with them into hiding; Suzie said many times that she would never return to the United States. But, first off, we have to go to my room in the tailor shop, so that I can get the keys to my home in New Orleans and the keys to the room where the artifact is hidden. Both doors have been charmed so that one must use the keys to gain entry and so that nobody can apparate in or out without a portkey. From the tailor shop, we will travel to my cousin's house via floo network, seal the floo fireplace upon arriving, and use the portkey to travel across the ocean to the courtyard behind my building."  
  
Snape turned to Dumbledore and said: "It'll be tricky, and we have to be fast. I'm certain that Voldemort has spies stationed outside of both the tailor shop and the Treadle house. I flew a quick reconnaissance flight over the village last night, on my broom, and noticed several dark cloaked figures in the area."  
  
"Very well. Mira, your plan sounds very well thought out. Severus, I have complete faith in your ability to get you and Mira safely out of the school and on the way to America. I shan't keep you any longer."  
  
He handed Snape a little pouch of glittery powder, floo sealing powder, and showed them to his floo network fireplace. Snape took a handful of floo powder from an ornately painted urn, and tossed it into the fire. Multicolored flames shot up into the air. He took Mira by the hand and called out: "Treadle Tailor Shop!" They stepped together onto the hearth, and disappeared in a flash of light.  
  
Immediately upon reaching the tailor shop, Snape turned and tossed a handful of the floo sealing powder into the fireplace to prevent anybody from following through in their wake. Mira looked around her in shock. The store had been ransacked.  
  
"Oh No! We've got to hurry; I have to find my keys. You keep an eye open for trouble downstairs."  
  
Mira ran up the stairs to her room. It had been ransacked too, but the wardrobe was intact. She reached in and pressed the secret panel. It slid aside to reveal a small hiding place where there was a set of keys on a thick satin ribbon. She grabbed the keys, stuffed them into her pocket, and started back down the stairs, when two men in white masks apparated into the room behind her. She screamed and called out to Snape: "They're here already! Fire up the floo, we've got to go NOW!" She pulled out her wand, and fired some blocking spells blindly behind her back as she ran down the staircase. She barely made it into the little alcove where the floo fireplace was located when several more masked wizards apparated into the shop. Snape had already activated the floo network, and was waiting with one foot on the hearth, and his hand outstretched towards her.  
  
"Mira, COME ON!"  
  
One of the wizards pointed his wand at them and Snape fired off a disarming curse, and sent the wizard flying backwards, knocking down two other Death Eaters who were coming to assist in the attack. Snape grabbed Mira by the hand and literally yanked her off her feet and into the floo fireplace. Almost instantaneously, they came tumbling out of the fireplace on the ground floor in the Treadle's large house. Snape grabbed a handful of floo blocking powder out of the pouch and tossed it into the fire behind them.  
  
"Come on Mira! Find that portkey, we've got to get out of here!"  
  
Mira stood looking from side to side, put her hand on her forehead, and got her bearings. She took him by the hand. "Come on, it's upstairs!"  
  
They ran up the staircase, as the house was being blasted by curses. "Hurry Mira! The security charms won't last long against an entire group of them!"  
  
Mira fumbled frantically through the linen closet in Susan and Albert's bedchamber.  
  
The front door downstairs exploded in a shower of charred wood. "Mira! I don't mean to alarm you, but they've breached the front door! I've got a blocking charm on the bedroom door, but it won't hold for more than a few seconds once they start in on it!"  
  
"Here, Severus, I've got it, come on!"  
  
Snape ran towards Mira, his wand pointed at the bedroom door, which was starting to smoke and rattle on its hinges.  
  
She held out a strange black metal cylinder to him. "Here, grab hold!"  
  
"What the hell is it?"  
  
"It's a flashlight. You know, a torch?"  
  
Snape looked at her with a puzzled look on his face.  
  
"Oh come on, you know, a torch! You use it to see in the dark! Never mind, just grab onto it!"  
  
He reached out and grabbed the common muggle object. Mira pulled him close to her, and activated the portkey by switching the light on, just as the Death Eaters came crashing through the doorway into the bedroom. 


	21. Culture Shock

Author's Notes: How will Snape react to the mundane aspects of muggle life? How will he react to arriving in a large muggle city, in a foreign country no less? He's not a happy camper, and has no desire to play tourist. Mira takes matters into her own hands when she realizes just how badly he needs to relax.  
  
Disclaimer: Not mine. Nope. None of it.  
  
Chapter 21: Culture Shock.  
  
After a few seconds of the disorienting, swirling, falling feeling that characterizes portkey travel, the couple felt their feet meet solid ground. They stood, leaning into each other for a moment, while they got their footing and caught their breath from the narrow escape back in England.  
  
Snape looked around at his surroundings. He found himself in a small brick walled courtyard. It was just before dawn in New Orleans. The air was much warmer and damper than back home in the Northern part of Great Britain, and it was very still and quiet. He could hear the gentle trickling of water in a little fountain on the other side of the courtyard, and he smelled the earthy smell of dirt and plants from the many large terra cotta pots situated against the courtyard walls.  
  
"Can they follow us through?" Asked Mira.  
  
"No, not without the portkey. The distance is simply too great to try and follow, even if they were skilled enough to be able to ride apparation energy wakes."  
  
"Then we're safe, for now at least."  
  
Mira turned and took in the sight of the courtyard. It had been a long time since she had last been here. The plants were no longer in bloom, and the garden had a slightly decayed air to it, being winter in a warm weather climate. But other than the normal changes brought by time, everything was as she remembered.  
  
She placed a hand on his shoulder. "Come on, let's go inside."  
  
Mira led Snape across the courtyard, fished the keys out of her pocket, and unlocked a plain wood door on the back wall of the large brick building. They stepped into a small hallway that led from the back of the building to the front. It was a private entrance for the shopkeeper and the residents who lived there. She motioned towards a staircase in a small alcove. "I'm on the top floor, this is the only way up or down, besides the fire escape out back."  
  
They climbed the stairs, passing a landing at the second floor that gave access to the door to the second floor apartment. On the third floor landing, there was another simple wooden door with a large wooden number three nailed to it. There was no handle on the door, nor any hinges. Mira pulled her little wand out of her robe pocket and tapped it to the door. A handle and hinges materialized. She used her key to unlock the door. She turned back to Snape.  
  
"Welcome to my home. It's not much, it's not very magical, but it's mine."  
  
She walked through a small entry foyer and switched on a lamp, which revealed a spacious but modestly furnished room. There was a small kitchenette to one side and a small table with four chairs near a pass- through opening. The sitting area had two sections, one consisted of a grouping of comfortable chairs around a small fireplace, opposite that was an entertainment center full of electronics and a pair of sofas situated in front of it with a low table between them. An arched doorway in the back of the sitting room led to a narrow hallway. To the right and left were matching bedroom suites which each consisted of a bedchamber, bathroom, and small study. Each bedchamber had a small step-out balcony. Mira's, to the right, faced out over the courtyard, the spare bedroom faced left, over a somewhat busy street on the edges of the French Quarter in New Orleans.  
  
Snape looked curiously at the muggle electronics and other non-magical objects.  
  
"Come on, there's more!"  
  
Mira led him back through the little hallway, through the sitting area, back out the front door. To the side of the third floor landing, there was a small door that at first glance, appeared to be a broom or coat closet. She used her key and opened it up to reveal a stairway.  
  
Warily, Snape followed her up the narrow steps to the roof of the building. They emerged onto a rooftop garden consisting of two long narrow glass conservatories. The view was spectacular. In the distance were the tall buildings of the modern downtown section of the city, and the sky was a rich shade of blue, punctuated by the orange glow of the sun, as dawn broke over the city.  
  
"The couple who rent the first two floors from me grow herbs and flowers in the greenhouses; magical as well as non-magical. The wife dabbles in potioning. Too bad you won't get a chance to sit down and have a chat with her. She could probably teach you a lot about the native plants of this region."  
  
Snape stood transfixed on the city skyline. He had never seen tall city buildings from this close of a vantage point before. Whenever he flew long distances on broom, he tended to stick to the skies above less populated areas. He felt very uncomfortable around such modern technology, muggle technology.  
  
"Come on, let's get you settled in, I'm sure this is all a bit new and strange to you."  
  
"That is most certainly an understatement" he replied tersely.  
  
Mira took his hand and led him to the stairs and back to her apartment.  
  
"Why don't you have a seat and make yourself comfortable. I'll go and see if there's any tea fit to brew in the kitchen. I may have sugar, but I'm afraid no cream, unless muggle imitation powdered creamer is okay?"  
  
"Black tea is fine, whatever you have is fine."  
  
Snape sat on one of the sofas and looked curiously at the array of muggle electronics stacked on the entertainment center. He thought he recognized something there as a radio, but the rest was completely foreign to him. There was a small flat black plastic object with numbered buttons sitting on the table. He picked it up and was examining it when a strange trilling noise started coming from a strange object on the surface of the kitchen pass through counter. He jumped up from the sofa and whipped out his wand and pointed it at the thing.  
  
Watching from the pass-through, Mira snickered to herself.  
  
"Relax! It's just the telephone. Jules and Maggie downstairs must have realized that I'm here."  
  
Mira and removed the top part of the object and held it to the side of her face and started talking into it.  
  
"Hello? Hi Jules! Yeah, I just got in a few minutes ago. No, I'm afraid I'll only be here for a few days at the most, and then I have to go back to England. I've brought a friend; so don't be alarmed if you see a strange man hanging around with me. What do you mean I only hang around with strange men! Screw you Jules! With the raggedy ass broom you flew into town on! Heh, right. Kiss-kiss yourself. And give Maggie my regards. Tell her I hope to come back for a longer visit soon. Okay, bye now."  
  
Mira hung up the phone and turned to Snape, who had a very confused look on his face.  
  
"It's a telephone. You know, a telephone? Oh, I guess you don't know, do you. Come here, let me show you how it works."  
  
Snape pocketed his wand and approached her warily.  
  
"Okay, see, this part here, the base with the buttons that have numbers on them? You press those buttons to dial a phone number. Every house or business that has a telephone has it's own telephone number assigned to it. You pick up this part, the handset, put it to your ear, and listen for a dial tone."  
  
She handed the handset to him. He put it to his ear and heard a strange humming noise.  
  
"Okay, if you hear that noise, then the line's working properly, and you press the buttons of the phone number that you want to call."  
  
Mira pressed a series of digits on the base of the phone, and motioned for Snape to listen to the earpiece.  
  
He heard three short higher pitched buzzing sounds, then a click. A woman's voice started speaking.  
  
"The weather today is Sunny, with a high of fifty-seven degrees. Some cloudiness this evening, but no chance of precipitation. At the sound of the tone, the time will be six eleven a.m."  
  
There was a beeping noise, then a few clicks, and then the original buzzing sound Snape first heard when he put the phone to his ear.  
  
"Who did we just call?"  
  
"Information. It's not really a person, it's computer generated. But now you know how a telephone works."  
  
He gingerly placed the handset back on the cradle, and looked at Mira with a confused and irritated look on his face.  
  
"Mira, this is all quite fascinating, but I really don't have the time for a crash course in muggle life. What can I do to help you retrieve the artifact so that we can get it back to England?"  
  
"I'm sorry. I understand you're anxious to get this over with, but sit back down, let me bring you your tea. You've come a long way and have seen a lot of strange new things. While you drink your tea, I'll make a telephone call to see if we can get to the artifact tonight."  
  
She stroked his hair and went back to the kitchen and emerged with a small tea tray that held a large mug of steaming tea with the string and tag of a teabag hanging down the side, a spoon, and two glass jars. One jar contained sugar, the other contained powdered imitation creamer. She set it down in front of him on the table.  
  
"I'm sorry I don't have the things to serve a proper pot of tea for you, but I spend very little time here nowadays and this is the best I could come up with. The one jar has sugar in it, the other one; the white powdery stuff is fake creamer. Not as good as cream or milk, but it'll do."  
  
She left him to his tea and went into the bedroom to make the call in private. The desk clerk at the plantation house inn who answered the phone said that there were no rooms available for that evening, but he had one opening up in the morning. She told him that was fine, and gave the necessary information to book a room for the following night. She hung up the phone, went into her bathroom, splashed some cool water onto her face, found a black silk kimono robe in her closet, and changed out of her witches' robe. She emerged from the bedroom refreshed and more suitably attired for a predominately muggle city.  
  
Snape set down his mug of tea and looked at her quizzically. "Mira, what did you change into muggle clothes for?"  
  
"Because once we step out that front door, we enter into a muggle city. Jules and Maggie are wizarding folks, as are many others who live in the French Quarter. But it's not a magical district like Diagon Alley or Hogsmeade. I simply feel more comfortable dressed in muggle clothes when I'm here in New Orleans. I'll sort us both out some street clothes in a little bit. Maybe Jules has something I can borrow for you?"  
  
"When are we leaving to get the artifact?"  
  
"I'm sorry Severus, we can't go get it until tomorrow night. The plantation it's hidden at is being used as a bed and breakfast inn nowadays, and I have to have a legitimate reason to be there to access the room it's hidden in. I can't just apparate in and out, there are muggles all over the place. I tried to reserve a room for tonight, but there were no vacancies. But I have a room booked for tomorrow night. Well arrive under the pretense of being guests, and I can get to the artifact then."  
  
Snape's brows creased in disappointment. At having to spend an entire day there doing nothing productive, and at the thought of having to spend time in even closer proximity to muggles. Mira sensed his apprehension and disappointment and tried to cheer him up.  
  
"Well, we can make the best of it. If you're game, I'll show you around the Quarter. Show you the few strictly magical places in town, as well as some of the other interesting sights. What do you say?"  
  
"I'm really not sure I'm up to going out exploring Mira."  
  
"Oh come on, we can't just sit here until tomorrow afternoon. Please, it'll be fun. I'll make you a deal. Give it an hour, just an hour. And if you're unable to get comfortable with it, we'll come back and just wait until we can go pick up the artifact. What do you say?"  
  
"I don't know."  
  
Mira took his hands and pleaded with mock sincerity. "Oh please! For me? Just give it one hour."  
  
Snape snatched his hands out of hers and crossed his arms over his chest, "Oh alright! Damn, you can be annoying woman! I'll go. But if I say so, we come straight back here. Do I make myself clear?"  
  
"Clear. It's a deal. Calm down, it'll be okay. You need to relax."  
  
"How can I relax in such a strange place?"  
  
Mira reached out and put her hand on his thigh.  
  
"We've got a few hours before the city really wakes up and gets moving. Come on, let's go kill some time, I'll help you relax."  
  
He raised his eyebrow and smirked as she took him by the hand and led him into her bedroom. 


	22. Tensions Ignite

Author's Notes: Smutty lemony rough and tumble roll between the sheets. What more can I say. Not sweet cuddly lovemaking by any means. Read at your own risk. In the afterglow, we get more closely acquainted with the professor's exquisite body.  
  
Okay, please review if you like it, and review if you don't. I need some feedback here. Good, bad, indifferent, just let me know what you think.  
  
Disclaimer: None of the characters from the books and movies are mine. Sigh. but maybe a certain potions professor could just be loaned to me for a little while.. Maybe?  
  
Chapter 22: Tensions Ignite  
  
Mira led him by the hand to her bedroom suite.  
  
"I know just the thing to loosen you up. Have you ever had a backrub?"  
  
Snape looked at her with an intrigued look on his face. "No, I can't say I ever have."  
  
"Well now, you're in for quite a treat."  
  
She stepped into the bathroom, handed him a towel, and motioned towards the door. "Why don't you go get out of your wizarding clothes and wrap this around yourself. You can fold your clothes up and leave them on the chair in there."  
  
He stepped into the door of the bathroom, and found it to be pretty much the same as the one in his suite of rooms back at Hogwarts. The bathtub was not quite as large, and there was a fancy dressing table, being a woman's room and all. But nonetheless, it was spacious, well appointed and familiar enough.  
  
As the professor changed clothes, Mira busied herself setting the mood in the room. She lit some fragrant candles, pulled the window shades down, and loaded the CD changer on the small stereo in the corner of her room with relaxing classical music. She removed the fancy coverlet from the bed, fluffed the pillows, and reached onto the bottom shelf of her nightstand and took the phone off the hook.  
  
She looked up as he was exiting the bathroom, arms crossed over his chest, an irritated and self-conscious look on his face.  
  
"Come on, it's okay. Lie down here on the middle of the bed, on your stomach."  
  
She giggled at his modesty and fetched a bottle of scented oil from the bathroom cabinet.  
  
"Now, just relax. Try and let your mind drift."  
  
He looked over his shoulder and shot her a nasty look before settling down. Mira smirked and knelt down on the bed, next to his side. She pushed his hair over and out of the way, and uncorked the bottle of oil. She poured some into her left hand, rested the bottle between her knees, and re-corked it with her right. She reached over his back and set the bottle on the nightstand, careful not to spill any of the oil. She transferred the oil from hand to hand, warming it to body temperature before smoothing it into her palms. She leaned over and ran her hands across his shoulders and upper back, distributing the oil.  
  
"Damn, you really are tense. Come on. Relax. Your entire back is knotted up."  
  
He let out a sigh that ended in a snarl. "Gee, I wonder bloody why?"  
  
"Shhh! Quiet. Let your mind drift. Concentrate on the music."  
  
He shifted on his stomach, and she reached over and began to knead the knotted muscles in his shoulders.  
  
"This isn't gonna work, you're just too tensed up. Here, let me change position." She braced with her hands, and swung her leg over him, straddling his waist. "There, much better. Now I can put some strength behind it."  
  
She continued to work the muscles of his shoulders and upper back. "Don't tense up even more, don't fight it, let your body relax." After a few minutes, he got used to her touch, and started to relax and release his tensions. "Good, you're loosening up some, let your mind drift, and let your body relax." He made a contented purring noise and let out a deep sigh. Mira smiled and started working her way down towards the small of his back. "See, doesn't that feel nice?"  
  
"Quite."  
  
She chuckled under her breath as she felt the tension in his back melt away under her touch. His back was broad and strong, smooth with some faint scarring across it. The marks looked almost as if he had once been lashed with a whip. She furrowed her brows and tried to put the thought out of her mind. But he had been involved in some very dangerous things, and she hoped that the marks weren't what she feared they were. She continued on to the small of his back, finishing up with a series of feather light strokes the length of his back that made him sigh and shift his body underneath her.  
  
Finished with the massage, she leaned over his back, lifted his hair away from his ear and whispered to him: "Now, didn't I tell you that I'd relax you?"  
  
He looked over his shoulder at her. "Finished already?"  
  
She kissed him just below his ear and dragged her lips lightly across the back of his neck. He made a deep throaty rumbling noise and rolled his head to the side. She slid off of his back, onto her hands and knees, and leaned in close to his other ear.  
  
"Oh no, we're just getting started."  
  
He let out a wicked throaty laugh, rose up onto his knees, and grabbed her by the waist. Caught off guard, she cried out as he flipped her down onto her back and pounced on her, straddling her hips and pinning her wrists with his hands.  
  
"Are we now? He said as he grasped both of her wrists with his left hand while reaching down and untying the sash of her kimono robe with the other. He pushed the robe open, and trailed the edge of his fingernails from her stomach to her throat, causing her to shudder. He twined his fingers in the hair on the nape of her neck and lifted her head to meet his kiss. He kissed her roughly, catching her bottom lip between his teeth. She made a soft little whimpering noise and he pulled away and brushed his hair across her chest. Mira gasped, arched her back, and twisted beneath him.  
  
"Patience, Mira.There's no hurry this time."  
  
She twisted her arms, trying to pull free from his grasp.  
  
"I think not." He pulled the sash from beneath her, and deftly bound her wrists to the headboard as she struggled and twisted beneath him, trying to pull free. Her chest was rising and falling with heavy breaths, and she looked up at him with a slightly glazed look in her eyes. He stroked her cheek and leaned in close to her face. "Now, where was I?"  
  
He continued to tease and toy with her until she was writhing and moaning and straining to meet his touch. In one fluid motion, he parted her thighs with his knee and forcefully entered her. She threw her head back and screamed, straining at the bonds on her wrists. He reached up, untied the sash, and started to make love to her, fiercely and intensely. With newly freed hands, she reached up and twined her fingers in his hair and pulled him down against her.  
  
She stroked her face against his cheek, and whispered breathlessly into his ear: "Please. oh God please don't stop." He buried his face into the crook of her neck and bit down on the tender flesh. She gasped and arched her hips against him.  
  
He felt her body starting to tense and her breaths growing shallower, as she was nearing climax. He raised himself up on one elbow and grabbed her throat with the other hand, causing her to gasp. "Not yet." Her body continued to tense, and he tightened his grip on her throat. "I said, not yet." She clenched her teeth and tried to hold back, her breaths restricted to short gasps, a vague look of panic in her eyes. As he finally caught up with her, he released his grip on her throat. "Now, Mira, Now!" She took a deep breath and cried out as they both exploded in waves of ecstasy.  
  
Their passion spent, the couple lay together on Mira's fancy wrought iron bed, in a loose embrace catching their breath. Within minutes, she heard his breathing shift to a deep regular pattern. He had dozed off in the afterglow.  
  
Mira smirked, thinking that at least wizarding and muggle men had one thing in common.  
  
She pushed herself up onto her elbow and watched him sleep. The usual scowl he wore was wiped from his face. He looked quite peaceful actually, with a look of smug satisfaction playing across his face. His long stringy hair fanned out on the pillow. She ran her fingers through it, catching them on tangles. "With just a little shampoo and a good brushing, it would be beautiful" she thought. She brushed some stray locks of hair off of his damp forehead and examined his face more closely.  
  
At first glance, his features were sharp and hawkish. But upon closer inspection, she noticed all the little flaws that were obscured in waking by expression. He had a fine scar running across his right cheek. And his brows had small creases from being furrowed with worry. His nose had been broken, more than once it looked like. And there were faint lines around his eyes and mouth. He had long black eyelashes; she had never noticed his eyelashes before. She brushed them with her fingertip and he stirred in his sleep. He actually had quite a noble face, a face that had weathered half a lifetime, and which had seen many things. In sleep, it was softened. Without the usual sneer or scowl he usually wore, he was a roguishly handsome man.  
  
She stroked his cheek gently and pushed the rumpled sheet off of his torso. He certainly was not a heavily built man, but not frail or overly thin either. He had a powerful but lean physique. Streamlined was a word that came to mind when she thought of his build. She traced her fingers through the fine silky black hair on his chest, and down the path it led towards his stomach. She placed her head on his chest, and listened to his heart beating as his chest slowly rose and fell with each breath. Despite all his flaws, she loved this man. She hadn't fully realized it until the day she woke up from her injuries at Hogwarts and saw him there at her side.  
  
She pulled the sheet to cover his chest, and saw a faint mark on his arm that appeared to be a tattoo. She looked more closely and it appeared more than anything to be a tattoo that had been partially removed. Only a faded residual image of what had once been there. She couldn't quite make it out, but it appeared to be a skull of some sort. She reached out to touch it and he jerked his arm away and flinched in his sleep.  
  
Mira pulled her hand back, puzzled as to why he had reacted like that. She glanced at the bedside clock, realized that she wouldn't be able to get any sleep, and decided to get up and get ready to re-acquaint herself with her hometown. 


	23. A Sort of Homecoming

Author's Notes: Apologies to all who found the previous chapter a little bit over the top. But it had to be done. Heh.  
  
In this chapter, I want to let Mira take over for a bit, and show a little bit about where she comes from, what motivates her, how she relates to being of two worlds and how she justifies it. And what she really thinks of the situation she has found herself sucked into.  
  
Oh, I don't live in New Orleans; I just visit as often as I can. I've got an acquaintance whose mother owns a business in the French Quarter. I was thinking of a city to set Mira's home in, and it had to have a modern as well as older more mysterious aspect to it. Somewhere that the wizarding world could co-exist with modern muggle society. N.O. seemed like a really natural choice. And it was familiar enough to write about without feeling as if I were totally clueless.  
  
Also, regarding Dumbledore. My take on him is that the kind, somewhat eccentric persona that he projects is only a very superficial facet of just what kind of man he really is. He defeated Grindelwald after all! Voldemort genuinely fears him. He's got to be much more than we've seen so far in the first few books. The end of GOF touches on his true potential as a leader and strategist a little, when he is dispatching people to try and forge alliances for the upcoming battle. I really see him morphing from kindly old eccentric headmaster into battle hardened general. My intent with him being a kind of spymaster and as I will show at the end of the story, a puppet master as well, doesn't really conflict with the image of the twinkly eyed old gent we've come to love, but it is just a deeper facet of who he is, a facet of himself of which he has not had the need to call upon for quite some time. He didn't kick Grindelwald's ass by eating candy and giving witty and sage advice. He's one powerful old wizard, and capable of assuming the role of strategist and warrior when necessary. That was peacetime, this is war. And war often brings about a fundamental change in personality in those whom are called upon to fight and lead the troops. I've always felt that he knew what was going to happen and that he gently manipulated situations to allow them to unfold a certain way. A master strategist at peacetime, silently pulling some strings to achieve a desired result. But in the face of the coming battle, he cannot afford to be as passive in his machinations; he had to take a more direct and proactive approach. But he's not maliciously manipulative nor is he coldhearted in his use of people to achieve the means to and end. He simply does what he has to do to get the job done and tries to cause the least amount of harm possible in doing so.  
  
Disclaimer: Nothing recognized from the books or movies belongs to me, it's merely borrowed to play around with for a while, and explore the possibilities relating to the characters and story lines.  
  
Chapter 23: A Sort of Homecoming.  
  
Mira pulled herself from the warm bed and made her way, weak kneed and a little shaky, to the bathroom where she removed the miniature sneakascope from around her neck and took a long hot shower. She towel dried her hair, pushed it off of her face with a headband, pulled the necklace back over her head and went to find some suitable clothes for errand running in her closet. She transferred some items from her robe pockets into a small purse. Dressed and ready to greet the day, she checked in on Snape, who was on his back, one arm raised above his head, sleeping soundly. She sat on the edge of the bed, reached into her bedside table, pulled out a notepad and pen, and wrote him a short note saying that she would be back shortly with muggle clothes for him to wear during his stay in New Orleans. If he wished to grab a shower or bath, the bottle of purple liquid was lavender bubble bath, and the others were labeled as to their purpose, he was welcome to use whatever he needed. She rolled the paper up like a scroll, and quietly tied it to one of the bars of the headboard above the professor's head with the discarded robe sash. He stirred lightly in his sleep with the shift of weight on the bed but didn't wake. She stroked his forehead and quietly got up, shut off the stereo, turned the ringer off of the phone and set the machine to silent messaging, then walked out the door.  
  
Mira took the staircase to the inner corridor that led from the courtyard to the front entrance of the building, and exited onto Royal Street. Passing the window in front of the ground floor gallery, Maggie waved and beckoned her inside. Mira entered the gallery, and was met by her tenant, Magnolia Guidry. Magnolia, or Maggie for short, was a short plump witch with hazel eyes and skin the color of honey. She wore her very dyed, very red, hair in short ringlets cropped close to her head. "Well hello you! Long time no see! Sneaking in before dawn, with a man no less!"  
  
Mira reached out and gave the woman a warm hug. "Hey Maggie, Jules called just after I got in, I guess he heard us moving around upstairs."  
  
"Yep, he had to get up early to go pick up a load of canvas. Oh, you didn't need the car this morning did you? I didn't even stop to think that you might need it."  
  
"Oh no, it's okay. I won't need it until tomorrow. I've got an errand to run, but I really wanted to get out on foot anyway. I need to go scrounge up some more appropriate clothes for my friend upstairs. I thought Jules might have something he could borrow, and then I thought that Jules's usual choice of attire might be a little too much of a shock to this guy."  
  
"So, you mind telling me who he is? Or are you gonna keep me in suspense?"  
  
"He's from England, a really hardcore wizarding type. A professor at a boarding school."  
  
"So, is he here for business? Pleasure?"  
  
"Well. Strictly speaking, for business. But why bother making the trip if you're not going to at least make time for a little fun, huh? He's kinda freaked out at the whole culture shock thing, but I'm gonna do my best to drag him out of the house for a while."  
  
"Jules said you'd only be here a day or two, why the rush?"  
  
"Sorry, I've got to get back to England as soon as possible. I'm just really here to help run a glorified errand for the headmaster of the school."  
  
"Well, you run along, let us know if you need anything, I'll make sure Jules puts gas in the car before putting it away. I'll leave the keys in the usual spot, on the nail by the staircase."  
  
"Thanks Maggs, I wish I could spend some more time here, but hopefully this spring things will be less hectic."  
  
"Well you be careful girl. I've heard a lot of stuff about what's going on in England, and you be sure to steer clear of it."  
  
"Will do, tell Jules hi for me."  
  
Mira exited the shop and headed towards Canal Street, and the large shopping center on the riverfront. She enjoyed the exercise from the walk. The air was cool, but the sun was bright and warmed her skin as she walked past numerous shops, restaurants, and other assorted businesses in the ground floor storefronts. She could smell the aroma of coffee coming from the cafés and her stomach growled. "Ugh!" She thought. "I hope he's ready to get dressed and leave when I get back, I can't wait until lunchtime to find something to eat."  
  
She entered the large modern shopping center and went to the closest department store. "What to get for him?" She pondered, passing rack after rack of men's sportswear and office attire. It all seemed way too modern for Snape's usual archaic taste in clothes. Suzie had explained to her once that most of the older witches and wizards, especially ones from upper class or well-established wizarding families, tended to isolate themselves more and more from the muggle world. Not needing technology to get by, modern muggle life went on and left them behind and they got comfortable with their outmoded ways of dress and household furnishings.  
  
She decided that the best she could do was to stick to simple things in his usual monochromatic dark color scheme and hope for the best. His socks and shoes would do, as would his belt. On the two opportunities to notice, she had not known him to wear underclothes of any kind, so she didn't bother with that either. She chose a basic pair of black button front trousers, a charcoal gray turtleneck sweater, and on impulse, grabbed a long black leather overcoat off of a rack near the aisle. Expensive, but if he didn't like it, she could perform an alterations charm on it and resize it to fit her perfectly. As she was waiting in line, she felt a tap on her elbow.  
  
Mira turned around and found a tiny, very aged old woman with an armful of shopping bags standing behind her.  
  
"Hi."  
  
"He's not what you think." Said the old woman.  
  
"Beg pardon? Who's not what?"  
  
"Him, the man those clothes are for. He's not what you think he is. He's got a secret, a big one."  
  
Mira looked at the old woman with confusion.  
  
"I just thought you should know dear."  
  
The old woman patted her on the arm and shuffled away, leaving Mira very confused. She would have dismissed it as the ramblings of a senile old woman, except she knew just how wise these supposedly senile old women could be, and it made her think back to the night at Lucy's, when Lucy tried to convince her that the professor was involved with dark magic.  
  
"Miss, can I help you? You're next,"  
  
Brought back to the here and now by the salesclerk, she apologized for zoning out, and paid for the clothes. On the way back to her home, she stopped at a café for a cup of coffee and a croissant, and thought some more about what the woman had to say and what Lucy had suspected. She absentmindedly reached up and fingered the magical bauble that Headmaster Dumbledore had given her. Surely if it worked as he said, it would have alerted her if the professor had intended to do her any harm. What kind of secret could he possibly be keeping from her? Was he married? Did he have a family somewhere? She didn't think so, but who knows, it wouldn't be anything new. She looked at the clock on the wall of the café and gulped down the last of her coffee and headed home. If she got any sense that he was holding back something important, she'd confront him about it. But for now, she had other things on her mind.  
  
Snape awoke to bright sunlight streaming in through a gap in the blinds, falling across his face. He made a disgusted noise, shielded his eyes from the glare, and sat up. "Mira." "Mira?" He spied the scroll of notebook paper tied to the headboard with Mira's robe sash. He removed it and read it. "Shit! How could she run off and leave me here in a muggle house when she knows I don't know how anything works." He sat on the edge of the bed, fuming silently to himself, and staring around the room at the muggle items he couldn't easily identify. He recognized a telephone, and of course the basic furnishings. The stereo confused him, but he had remembered music coming from it and figured it was a fancier muggle version of the wizarding wireless. The candles had burned themselves out, and he recognized the pocket lighter. He had confiscated enough of those from students who were caught smoking in the corridors after hours.  
  
He decided to go on and get cleaned up; bathrooms were pretty self- explanatory in either culture. He picked up Mira's crumpled silk robe and sash and carried them into the bathroom with him. Not having had one since his student days, he decided on a shower over a bath. After a false start where he yelped and banged his head on the shower nozzle when the water came out ice cold, he got the temperature right and enjoyed the feel of warm steaming water raining down on him. He opened a tube labeled "body wash" sniffed at it, wrinkled his nose and replaced it in the shower caddy with a sneer. He picked up the bar of soap, sniffed it tentatively, and found the scent to be much more pleasant, and not at all feminine like the fruity pink gel in the tube he had just smelled. He looked up at the large shower caddy, at an array of muggle grooming potions. There was shampoo; he recognized that, although he rarely used it. And he saw something in an identical bottle labeled conditioning rinse. He read the backs of the bottles, the ingredients were mostly synthetic chemicals, but they had some useful herbs and botanicals in them. He let out an exasperated sigh as he placed them back on the rack. "Bloody Hell." He ran his fingers through his hair, letting the water wet it down, hesitated, and then reached for the bottles. "Oh well, when in Rome."  
  
Finished with his shower, he dried off and put on Mira's silk robe. It didn't appear to be something only muggle women wore, and it looked close enough to a wizarding robe to be familiar. He looked for a comb to get the tangles out of his hair, and opened a drawer on her dressing table. "You've got to be fucking kidding!" He looked down at the drawer crammed full of assorted combs and hairbrushes of all shapes and sizes, as well as headbands and other assorted hair accessories. He fished around, and pulled out the most normal looking comb he could find and ran it through his damp hair. He turned his head and looked more closely in the mirror. His hair looked a little less limp and certainly was no longer greasy. "Hmmm, not too bad." But then made a tsk-ing noise. "Who has the time for this rubbish? Men like Lockhart I suppose." He snorted and smirked at the mental image of a disheveled Lockhart being carried away babbling in a straitjacket.  
  
He removed his wand from his robes, which were still folded neatly on the chair in the corner of the bathroom, and went into the main living area of the apartment to wait for Mira. He had seen some books on a shelf near the fireplace and went to see if anything looked familiar. He spied a large cloth bound book with the word "Album" printed in fancy script on the spine. He pulled it off the shelf and opened it. It was a family photograph album. But not wizard photos, these photos didn't move. Some were in black and white, but others in color. He didn't recognize any of the people in the black and white photos, but recognized Mira and her cousin in others. There was one of Mira and an older woman and man, sitting around the table, a birthday cake with lit candles in front of them. These must have been her parents. He saw a photograph of Mira and her cousin, as schoolgirls standing between a stern looking plump woman in front of the Eiffel tower in Paris. That must be the grandmother, he thought. Towards the back, a photograph of the girls in matching satin robes, funny hats on their heads, holding scrolls. And farther back still, a photograph of a pregnant Susan with her hands on her stomach, pointing out how round it was, an uncomfortable looking young man standing by her side. Snape recognized him as Susan's husband. On the last pages were the most recent photos. Mira with a very young Tricia at some kind of a fair. Mira with a man Snape didn't recognize, his arm tight around her waist. Mira with a darker skinned couple, standing in front of several paintings, with the words "gallery opening" written across the bottom. He noticed in the most recent photographs, she didn't have the same smile on her face as in her childhood and schoolgirl photos. He realized that they were taken after her parents died in the Death Eater attack. It had apparently haunted her so badly that she was willing to give up her home to travel to England and live in a culture that was entirely foreign to her. He thought about how hard it must have been for her and if he would even be willing to go into exile in the muggle world if it ever came down to it.  
  
He heard footsteps coming up the stairs, hastily replaced the photograph album, picked up his wand and walked towards the front door. 


	24. Stepping out of the Box

Author's Notes: I wanted to write a chapter where Snape allows himself to step out of his shell, just for a little bit. What would he be like without the weight of his situation as ex Death Eater and counterspy weighing down on his shoulders? I think he'd be a lot like the way I portrayed him in this chapter.  
  
Mira gets to re-acquaint herself with her hometown, and show the professor a good time. It's the calm before another storm sets in.  
  
Disclaimer: If it's recognized from the books and movies, then it's not at all mine.  
  
Chapter 24: Stepping Out of the Box.  
  
Mira removed her wand from her purse and performed the simple charm to reveal the doorknob and hinges. She pulled her key out and unlocked the door. She stepped in and saw Snape standing to the side of the table, shoulders tensed, wand in hand by his side, at the ready. Mira was caught off guard. She hadn't expected him to be awake yet. She was also slightly taken aback by the sight of him. "Oh hell yeah!" She thought to herself. "That man is one sexy beast!" He had cleaned himself up and was wearing her long black silk robe, belted at the hip, the top open just enough to show the silky black hair of his chest. His hair was clean and shiny and hung down smoothly onto his shoulders. She'd have to make sure he took that robe home with him, he did it complete and total justice.  
  
"Hey, it's just me.expecting anybody else? I see you got cleaned up. Nice." Mira winked as she walked past him, towards the sofas on the other side of the room. "I was gonna just borrow some of Jules's clothes for you to wear, but I figured that paint spattered coveralls and old concert tee shirts weren't exactly your style. So, I picked you up something new. Hope you like it. I thought it seemed to suit you. If not, it's only for today and tomorrow.  
  
She handed him the shopping bag. He warily took it, giving her a suspicious look.  
  
"Go on, get dressed. Your own shoes and stuff will do, there's just trousers, a jumper and a coat in the bag. Your hair's fine. Long hair's in fashion in the muggle world too.  
  
He headed towards the bedroom door, and shot her an angry glare over his shoulder. "I'm not out to win any fashion awards. I just want to blend in with the crowd."  
  
"Trust me. You'll be fine. Now hurry up, I know you're hungry and I'm still starving too."  
  
He emerged from the bedroom a few minutes later, looking a little self- conscious but very nice in the clothes she had chosen for him. He had also taken a black elastic band out of her vanity table drawer and pulled his hair back into a loose ponytail.  
  
"Whoah! Don't take this the wrong way or anything, but you really clean up nicely, you know that?"  
  
He shot her a dirty look and then gave a self-satisfied little smirk as he adjusted the collar of the jacket.  
  
"I made a few minor adjustments. The jumper was a little loose and the trousers a little short. And I added some pockets to the inside of the jacket for my wand and other necessities. But all in all, it's not as bad as I expected. I forgive you for forcing me into muggle clothes; you went out of your way to make it as tolerable as can be. Now, remember our deal. One hour. If I feel the least bit uncomfortable, we return back here at once. Is that clear?"  
  
"Clear. Now come on, let's go."  
  
Mira closed and locked the door behind them, and led Snape down the stairs to the little side hallway that ran behind the gallery. When they got to the front of the door, she stopped and turned back to him.  
  
"Now. The moment we step through this door onto that street, we enter into the muggle world. You can use no magic, whatsoever. If anything happens, we've got to think our way out of it without resorting to magic. Just relax, try and keep an open mind, and follow my lead." Mira unlocked the door and stepped out. Snape took a tentative step out into the sunlight, wincing and shielding his eyes with his hand.  
  
"Ooh, sorry about that. Here, I got these for you too."  
  
Mira reached into her purse and pulled out a pair of very modern men's sunglasses and handed them to the professor. She took her own out of a little case and put them on.  
  
"Sunglasses. Put them on, they'll protect your eyes. They make you look cool too."  
  
He gingerly opened the sunglasses and put them on, looked around, nodded his head and made a little "hmmmph" noise.  
  
"See, pretty cool huh?"  
  
He looked down at her with a sarcastic smile, and gave her a nudge onto the sidewalk. He took a few steps ahead of her, looking in through the windows at the art in the gallery as Mira locked the door and put her key in her purse. He had turned to look at the morning traffic, and Mira saw Maggie frantically waving from inside. She pointed at Snape, then mouthed the word "Him?" at Mira. Mira nodded yes, and Maggie's jaw dropped. She gave an exaggerated bow towards Mira and gave her two thumbs up. Mira giggled to herself and gave a dismissive wave to Maggie and took the professor by the arm and led him down the street, towards the center of the French Quarter.  
  
Mira leaned in towards him. "I've got a surprise for you."  
  
"Dare I ask? Or am I better off not knowing?"  
  
Mira rolled her eyes at him and muttered under her breath: "No, but you'd better pull the god-damned pole out of your ass."  
  
"What did you just say?"  
  
"Oh, nothing. Just that I hope they have orange juice, I could really use a big tall glass." She gave him a cherubic smile and batted her eyelashes.  
  
He gripped her arm tightly, causing her to tense. "Ow! What'd you do that for?"  
  
"Don't fuck with me Mira. Remember our deal."  
  
"Jeez, I was just playing. Besides, is that any way to treat somebody who's taking you to breakfast?"  
  
"I can only imagine what passes for breakfast around here."  
  
"Don't be so uptight, I thought we settled the relaxation thing right after we got here. I'm taking you to an English teahouse. They serve a breakfast tea that's to die for."  
  
He raised his eyebrow at her, and gave a half smile. "Well now. That certainly is a pleasant surprise."  
  
After a long and satisfying breakfast, she led him from the teahouse to Jackson Square and motioned for him to sit next to her on a park bench.  
  
"The tourists generally don't start moving around until closer to noontime, late nights hitting the bars and casinos you know."  
  
She pointed out several landmarks, such as the cathedral and some of the more famous shops in the area. "When my ancestors arrived here, they rented warehouse space down by the river. It's all changed a lot since then, but in many ways, a lot's the same. Now, see over there, across the street. The antiques store? Two witch sisters own that one. A lot of things from my store are probably gathering dust over there as we speak. And that one a few doors down, the jewelry store? It's owned by a wizarding family too."  
  
"I must say. This part of the city is not as horribly foreign as I had expected."  
  
"No, it's the oldest part of the city. It should be more familiar to you."  
  
Snape looked at her and shot her a nasty but puzzled look. "Why do you say that?"  
  
"Uh, well, ummm. Hell, I don't know. I don't want to insult you or anything, but Hogsmeade and Hogwarts seem so old fashioned, even archaic. But you wouldn't notice that, you're a native."  
  
"Mira. There is so much that you do not know about the wizarding world. You're a member by default, being born witch instead of muggle. But you haven't lived it all your life, so you just don't know. It's true. Most old wizarding families go to great lengths to segregate themselves from anything related to the muggle world. Partly from prejudice and misunderstanding. Partly from habit and to preserve what is safe and familiar. I'm not saying it's right Mira, but it's the way it is, the way it's been for centuries among us. My family was a very old and conservative wizarding family. They even kept house elves for a while when times were more prosperous. And I was raised to be suspicious of and to feel superior to muggles. This growing unrest, it all boils down to a group of wizards believing that muggles are inferior and are polluting the purity of the wizarding culture by intermarriage and by allowing muggle born witches and wizards to train alongside purebloods. I despise that term. Pure Blood. What the hell does that mean anyway? Some of the most twisted and violent witches and wizards are Pure Bloods. For me, it's safe and comfortable, and the way it always has been. Maybe if I had been exposed more to muggle culture in my youth and been raised by less prejudiced parents, and around less prejudiced peers, I would be more comfortable with muggles and the muggle culture. But I'm just the way I am. I'm not proud of it, but it is what it is."  
  
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to imply that I thought you were intolerant or wrong. I just don't understand so much about the wizarding world, and I really want to be able to understand you a little better, too."  
  
He looked around, as if checking to see if they were being spied upon, and turned to Mira. "Mira, let's get this straight before things go any farther. There are things about me that you would never understand. Things that you are better off not knowing. Don't try and understand me Mira, you simply do not want to start down that path. You're the first person who I've let get remotely close to me in over a decade. Don't ruin it by expecting what I'm unable to give."  
  
She looked down at her feet uncomfortably, and then out at the crowd gathering in the square. Lucy's words, and the words of the old woman in the store, playing through her mind in an endless loop. She looked at him and saw resignation and that same old self-loathing bitterness that was never far beneath the surface, even during the few times she had seen his mood lift just a little. "What the hell have I gotten myself sucked into?" She thought to herself as she watched a man sketching portraits for tourists, and absentmindedly twirled the magical bauble on the necklace around in her fingers.  
  
She looked back up at Snape, and placed her hand on top of his. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to make you uncomfortable; it's just that sometimes I forget what radically different worlds we both come from. Come on. I promised you I'd show you some of the magical places in town. If you're not ready to head back to my apartment yet, that is."  
  
He got up, adjusted his clothes, and reached for her hand. "No, actually this isn't as bad as I expected. I want to see more, but not any of the most modern parts of the city. That would be too much."  
  
He linked his arm with hers, and they walked along towards the old market near the river, where they browsed for quite a while. Mira showed him a few stalls where witches and wizards were selling "herbs" which were as useful for potion making as for cooking and herbal medicine. Snape picked up a bundle of small branches with prickly stems to examine it more closely. "That there's Toothache Tree," said the old woman who was running the stall. "You shave the wood into slivers and boil it for the liquid." He snapped one of the small twigs and sniffed, cocking his head to the side. "Unless you know of better uses for it, that is.." said the old woman with a sly wink. Snape raised his eyebrow and turned to Mira, who was sniffing a bucket of freshly cut lavender.  
  
"Mira, do you have any extra coins with you? I'd like to take some of this back to my lab. I read about it in a book."  
  
"Oh, sure, whatever you think you can use." He handed the bundle to the woman, and Mira asked for a small bunch of lavender. The old woman wrapped the bundle of twigs in paper, and folded a dozen stems of the lavender up inside themselves to make a bunch and tied it tightly with a blue ribbon to make a neat little bouquet. Mira paid for the herbs, and Snape slipped the bundle into one of the many pockets he had added to the inside of the leather coat. She tucked the little bouquet of lavender in the knot of the scarf she was wearing, and they went along their way, down to the river, where they sat for quite some time, watching the parade of tourists exploring the marketplace, and the locals going about their day-to-day errands.  
  
The time passed quickly. Mira sat on the bench, re-acquainting herself with her hometown as if seeing a good friend for the first time in years. Snape sat transfixed at the parade of humanity in all its diversity passing by before them.  
  
"I'm thirsty, how about you?"  
  
"I didn't want to ask, but the sun is quite a bit more than I'm used to back home."  
  
"Will you be okay here by yourself for a few minutes, while I go get us something?"  
  
"How far are you going?"  
  
"See that vendor stall right over there, at the entrance to the marketplace? I'll be right there, within sight."  
  
"I'll manage, I'm not a two year old child who needs mummy to hold his hand."  
  
She smirked and got up and walked over to the vendor stall, and wondered just what he would enjoy and what would be way too exotic for his tastes. She knew that wizarding folk enjoyed pumpkin juice, ales, and cider type drinks. The closest thing the vendor had was mixed fruit juice concoction, so she settled on the juice drink for him and a flavored iced tea for herself. While she was waiting at the stall, a muggle tourist family sat down at the bench next to the professor. The husband and wife in jeans and colorful Bourbon Street tee shirts under even more colorful sports jackets, the baby in an elaborate oversized stroller, wailing about nothing in particular while the father tried to placate him with a large fuzzy toy alligator. Snape had edged as close to the opposite end of the bench as possible without falling off, and was peering sideways at the family, a most sour and distasteful look on his face. Mira laughed to herself as she returned to him with their drinks. He jumped up and met her halfway.  
  
"What's the matter? A little too close for comfort?" She taunted him and handed him the drink.  
  
"Don't push me Mira. I said I was enjoying your little sightseeing tour, but I do have my limits."  
  
Mira found them an unoccupied bench that faced the river. They sat back down, and he gingerly lifted the lid of the cup of juice and sniffed at it.  
  
"Oh come on, it's just fruit juice, I didn't know what else to get you. If you don't like it you can have mine."  
  
He curled his lip and snapped the lid back on the cup and took a tentative sip from the straw. He cocked his head to one side and gave an appreciative nod. "It'll do."  
  
Mira snorted in mock disgust and took a long sip of her tea.  
  
They sat together, watching the sunlight dance on the water of the river, and the tourist riverboats departing and then docking at the piers. Finished with her tea, Mira set the cup down and slid closer to the professor and rested her head on his shoulder. He looked down at her with a raised eyebrow, and took her hand. They sat there for quite some time, silently watching the sun grow lower on the horizon, and the light dancing more brilliantly on the water. To any passer by, they were merely another couple enjoying the city and each other. The reality of their situation completely masked by the moment of simple contentment that they dragged out for as long as they could.  
  
As the sun started to set, it got quite cold on the riverbank. Mira had pulled the velvety scarf she wore around her neck a little tighter, but it was no use, the moment was over, it was time to move on. She sat up straight and stretched. "Come on, there's one more place I want to take you, then straight home because it does get cold overnight this time of year."  
  
They walked back past the square, and past several bars and nightclubs, neon lights already on, crowds of tourists waiting to get in. While they were waiting to cross the street, she felt a faint tremble from the magical bauble around her neck. She looked around, and saw a man she knew to be a local pickpocket. She watched him closely, and he looked away and started to follow after a group of already drunk college age tourists.  
  
"Where are we going?"  
  
"To a bar. Primarily magical folk, some muggles, but mostly muggles who have some knowledge of the wizarding culture, having been brought in through relationships or by accidentally stumbling onto it on their own. As long as they're discreet about it, they're allowed to remain in the know."  
  
She turned down a much quieter street and stopped in front of a building that at first glance appeared to be abandoned. There were very faded old letters painted on the blacked out window. It read: "Sun and Moon Social Club, Fine Wine and Spirits Served."  
  
Mira grabbed the massive old door handle and pulled it open. "Come on, it's a lot like the Leaky Cauldron back in London, just a little more colorful."  
  
It took a moment for Snape's eyes to adjust to the dim light. He found himself in a cozy womb-like room with an elaborate dark wood bar and several high backed booths along the walls, benches upholstered in rich burgundy fabric. Tiny candle lanterns burned on the tables and a massive dark iron candelabra flickered in the center of the room, over the enormous U shaped bar. Mira showed him to a booth towards the back and took off her scarf and laid it down on the seat. He took his jacket off and sat down.  
  
"So, do you drink anything stronger than chilled apple mead?"  
  
He thought back to the night at Hagrid's and the flask of pale amber liquid. "I enjoy a stiffer drink now and again."  
  
"Good, I know just the thing. An unusual muggle drink. Are you adventurous?"  
  
He looked up at her with a perturbed look on his face. "There's very little in this world that I can't handle myself around. Compared to fire whisky, how bad can this muggle drink be?"  
  
Mira chuckled wickedly to herself. "Okay then. But remember that you asked for it come tomorrow morning."  
  
She approached the bar and leaned in and got the attention of the barman. She pointed to a large bottle of clear liquid that had what appeared to be flecks of gold settled in the bottom of the bottle. "Two large and I do mean large shots please." The barman shook the bottle gently and poured the shimmering liquid into two slender glasses. Mira handed him some cash, and thanked him. She returned to the booth, set the glasses of shimmering liquid on the table, and slid in across from the professor.  
  
He picked up the glass, and held it up to take a closer look. The swirling gold flakes caught the candlelight and shimmered as if on fire. "Mira, this is a wizard drink."  
  
"No, I assure you, it's purely muggle. Although maybe the family who invented it has some wizarding blood in them."  
  
He looked at her suspiciously and sniffed at the glass. He took a deeper sniff. It was certainly strong, but also sweet and had the warm aroma of cinnamon. He looked at Mira with a very suspicious look on his face.  
  
"Oh for goodness sake. Here, watch, it's fine." Mira took a dainty sip from her glass and set it down in front of her and licked her lips. "See, just a plain old muggle drink, albeit a fancy one."  
  
Snape picked up the glass, cast Mira a dubious glance and took a hearty swallow. Immediately his eyes got big, and he slammed the glass back down on the table and started to cough. Mira laughed wickedly and hid her face from the dagger eyes he was shooting at her.  
  
"Damn you! What the hell is this? It's some kind of fire whisky, isn't it?"  
  
"No, nothing like that, honestly. It's called Goldschlager. It's a muggle drink, very potent, and a little exotic. But once you get used to the bite, it's quite a pleasant experience. Drink it slowly, take small sips."  
  
She took another dainty sip, and smiled at him, he took a tentative and much smaller sip. He looked at the glass with a kind of pleasant smirk. "You're right, after the initial shock wears off, it is quite nice. But that was a really nasty trick that almost earned you a painful little curse."  
  
Mira winced at the words "painful little curse" and Snape instantly regretted saying it. "Mira. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to remind you. I didn't think."  
  
"It's okay. I should have warned you before you slammed down a mouthful of your drink. Really. Come sit next to me, that way you can see the bar better, I want to point out some people to you."  
  
Snape slid out of the booth across from Mira, picked up his jacket, and joined her on the side facing the bar. She leaned in closer to him, and pointed out several characters who were drinking and conversing at the bar. "Okay, see him, the one in the cape? He's a wizard. The woman next to him? Witch. The lady with the colorful hair? Muggle but used to live with a wizard. The man next to her? Werewolf. Snape turned to her and looked at her with a very concerned look on his face.  
  
"Werewolf?"  
  
"Uh-huh, and sometimes they get vampires in here too. You'd be very surprised at just who all finds their way here after dark."  
  
He cast a suspicious look around the room, and leaned back in the booth. They finished their drinks in silence, enjoying the sweet but biting cinnamon taste of the drink, and the pleasant warming sensation it gave them. Finished, she looked up at him and wiped a fleck of gold off of his bottom lip. "Come on. It's getting late, and we should be getting home. Put your coat on, you may feel warm in here, but it'll be really cold outside."  
  
They stepped out onto the street, momentarily stunned and sobered up by the bracing night air coming from off the river. They made the short walk over to her building, and climbed the stairs cautiously, both definitely feeling the effects of the alcohol by then. After some fumbling and a couple false starts, Mira managed to get the door to her apartment open, and they staggered inside. She locked the door behind them, and turned to him in a fit of giggles. "So, how'd you enjoy being a tourist for the day?"  
  
He looked at her with a strange expression. The usual sneer wiped completely off of his face by the alcohol, his eyes were glazed and his mouth set in a wicked little smirk.  
  
"It was horrible. Absolutely hellish. And now I'm afraid I'm going to have to punish you for tricking me into it." He reached out for her, and she pulled away and stumbled back towards the sofas. He pulled the jacket off and advanced on her, weaving slightly as he crossed the room. He tossed the jacket onto one of the sofas and pushed her down onto the other one. She pulled the elastic band out of his hair and it fell forward into her face. She laughed and batted it away, he reached up and pinned her arms above her head. He lowered his face to hers and met her lips with a kiss. He let go of her wrists and she gripped his shoulders and pulled him closer against her. The mood was shattered by a knock at the door. They both sat up quickly and looked at the door, wondering if they really heard what they thought they heard. 


	25. The Beginning of the End

Author's Notes: More action on the way. Things start to move very fast. Snape and Mira both really begin to realize that their adventure together is coming to an end. Tensions flare, but they manage to come together to meet the challenge set before them.  
  
Disclaimers: None of the material from the books and movies is mine.  
  
Chapter 25: The Beginning of the End.  
  
The visitor knocked again, this time more forcefully. Both Mira and Snape sobered up immediately, reached for their wands and cautiously approached the door. Mira heard a loud voice from the other side.  
  
"Mira, Mira! Come on girl, I know you're in there, it's important, I've got to talk to you."  
  
She lowered her wand and looked up at Snape. "It's Jules, the man from downstairs. It's okay."  
  
She went to unlock the door, but Snape didn't let down his guard. A large dark skinned man with short braided hair, wearing paint-spattered clothes entered the room behind her. Satisfied that there was nobody else there, Snape lowered his wand and warily approached Mira and her tenant.  
  
Mira stood between the two men, who were eyeing each other warily. "Jules, this is Severus. He's a friend from England. He teaches at a school there, we're running an errand for the headmaster. Severus, this is Jules, otherwise known as Julian Guidry. He's the artist whose art is on display in the ground floor gallery. His wife runs the business end of it." The two men exchanged curt nods of greeting.  
  
"Mira. Are you expecting any company?"  
  
She felt a cold chill work its way down her spine. "No. No Jules, I'm not expecting any company. Did somebody come calling for me?"  
  
"Yeah. And I got a real bad feeling about them. It was two men, so blatantly wizards that they couldn't have looked any more out of place had they tried. They asked if the landlady was in, and I told them that she didn't live here, she lived abroad and wasn't expected to return until springtime. They stepped back and whispered something among themselves and I asked if I could arrange for a message to be sent to you, and they said no thanks and walked out the door."  
  
Mira tucked her wand behind her ear and put her hand on the man's shoulder.  
  
"Jules. I don't want to alarm you, but I think they might have something to do with the attack on my parents and aunt and uncle. I want you to take Maggie and go away for a couple days. I'm so sorry Jules, but I want to make sure you're safe. We'll be leaving tomorrow night, and you will be safe to return the day after tomorrow. Pack a bag and tell Maggie that it's a spur of the moment getaway or something."  
  
"If there's something wrong Mira, maybe I can help you sort it out?"  
  
"No, Jules. This has nothing to do with you and Maggie, and I want to keep it that way. Now, go on, tell Maggie that you want to take her away for an early Christmas surprise. Wing it as you go along." Call a cab and take her over to the Carriage House inn. I know the owner there, and they owe me a favor. I'll call them and tell them to have a suite ready for you within the hour."  
  
"Mirabelle. Something's up. We've been friends for years now, and I don't know if I feel right just taking off while some shady characters are looking for you."  
  
Snape stepped forward and turned to Jules. "Julian. Please. Listen to her and take your wife away for a couple of days. I'll make sure Mira's safe, I won't let anything happen to her."  
  
Jules looked at Mira with a questioning look in his eyes.  
  
"It's' okay Jules. He'll take care of me. I'll be okay. Go on. I'll send word to you when I return to England, to let you know everything's okay."  
  
Julian looked at the couple apprehensively, then nodded his head and turned towards the door.  
  
"But you call me if you need us. I can get here from that inn in an instant."  
  
Mira thanked him for his concern and showed him the door. She turned to a very agitated Professor Snape who crossed his arms across his chest, and started to pace back and forth, his brows furrowed, deep in concentration.  
  
"Okay Mira. What kinds of wards and charms do you have in place around this building?"  
  
She explained to him the security measures she had already taken, and he busied himself casting more sophisticated charms and wards on the doors and windows. He set traps and alarms that would be triggered if anybody attempted to breach the doors, windows, or apparate into the apartment. She made the call to the inn to arrange for a room for Jules and Maggie, and then sat on the sofa, still reeling from the alcohol and fear that the Death Eaters had followed them to her home.  
  
Satisfied that the building was as secure as he could make it, Snape joined her on the sofa. "Mira. I've backed up everything you've already put into place, and we should be safe for tonight. They'll return to Voldemort and tell him that you're abroad and not expected back. He'll either send them back to do the job right or send somebody more dangerous. But we really need to move fast tomorrow, and get to where that artifact is and then get back to England so you can give it to Dumbledore and we can get you somewhere safe."  
  
"What do you mean, somewhere safe? Things have changed since we went flying together that night. I'm staying in England."  
  
He stood up and glowered at her.  
  
"Absolutely not Mira! You already had a taste of what these men are capable of doing; do you want to see just how far they're willing to go? Now remember what I told you and remember it good. Either you go away on your own, or I put a very thorough memory charm on you and send you away, and you will have lost the entire past year. Think about it Mira. Are you willing to lose all of that for what you know you cannot have?"  
  
"What the hell is wrong with you? How can you stand there and be so cold? You can't tell me that you feel nothing. I've seen it in your eyes, on your face. As much as you try to deny it to yourself, you feel the same things that I do! This sarcastic sneering prick attitude you put on, it's a front. I've seen beneath it. What in the hell happened to you that caused you to be this way?"  
  
"Mira! I am warning you. Do NOT start down that path!"  
  
"Fucking heartless BASTARD!"  
  
"Get out of my sight before I give you what you can't let lie, and tell you things that will blow your little world to pieces!"  
  
Mira ran crying to the bedroom and slammed the door loudly behind her.  
  
Snape lowered himself onto the sofa, hands white and trembling with anger. He rested his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands, and breathed heavily. After about an hour of rehashing the events leading up to the current situation over and over again in his mind, he wearily rose, picked up the leather coat, pulled all the window shades tight and walked back to the bedroom. He cautiously opened the door, and in the light from a tiny night-lamp, he saw Mira curled up on the far side of the bed. He could tell she had been crying, and she made no attempt to acknowledge his presence. He laid his wand and the potions case on the bedside table and silently undressed. He folded the new clothes and laid them on top of his wizarding clothes in the bathroom. He climbed into bed, next to Mira, and put his arm around her waist. She sniffed quietly and rubbed her eyes. He pulled her closer towards him, and rested his head just above her shoulder.  
  
He spoke in a low breathy voice: "Mira. I know you're not sleeping. Listen to me. I don't like this any more than you do. But it is the way things must be. Now please. We don't have much time left together, let's not end this on a sour note."  
  
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry I picked a fight with you."  
  
"Mira"  
  
"I'm just afraid I'll never see you again after tomorrow."  
  
"Mira, please."  
  
"I don't want to lose you this soon."  
  
"Mira, please, don't do this to yourself. I'm not worth it."  
  
They lay together for some time without saying another word, before drifting off to sleep.  
  
Mira awoke to a strange tickling sensation against her shoulder. She reached to brush whatever it was away and realized that it was the miniature sneakascope, vibrating gently on the end of its chain. She sat up with a start and looked around the room, eyes adjusting to the dim light. Alerted to her sudden movement, Snape quickly awoke next to her.  
  
"What's wrong? Did you hear something?"  
  
"It's the sneakascope Dumbledore gave me. It woke me up vibrating."  
  
"Fuck! They're back."  
  
Snape crawled silently out of bed, retrieved the black silk robe, pulled it on, and reached for his wand.  
  
"You stay here. I'm going to go check the windows and door, and try and see where they are. Don't turn on any lights, don't make any noise, and don't look out any windows."  
  
He crept silently across the room, and peered out the tiny gap between the blinds and windowsill. No sight of them in the courtyard, he went into the bedroom opposite the hallway, checked the windows, and went to the front half of the apartment to check the windows and door. He looked out the window facing the street, and saw them. Two men in dark clothes, wearing oversized muggle winter coats that had hoods. He couldn't see their faces, but by their build, they didn't appear to be Malfoy or his toadies. They were standing under a streetlamp, talking, and every few seconds looking back Mira's building. A cold chill ran down his back and he felt the mark on his arm start to tingle.  
  
"Shit! It's got to be a couple of the ones from Azkaban." He said quietly under his breath.  
  
Snape made his way quietly back to the bedroom to Mira.  
  
"Okay. This is what's happening. There are two Death Eaters across the street watching the building. And I don't have much time before I have to get back to England. Don't ask why, I won't tell you. We've got to make a major change in plans. How else can we get to the place where this artifact is kept? Can we apparate there and get it? It's the middle of the night, the muggles won't see us."  
  
"Severus, I can't apparate. I never took the exam. I travel distances by portkey."  
  
"Okay, how else then? A broom. Do you have a broom?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Shit!"  
  
"Wait, hold on. Jules and Maggie have a broom, a big one downstairs in their apartment. I can go down and get it."  
  
"No, I go down and get it. Better yet, we both go down and get it and then we get the hell out of here. Is there a back way out, behind the courtyard?"  
  
"Yeah, there's an alley. We can get back there and put some distance between us and them until we can find a safe place to take off."  
  
"Good. But we've got to move. Get dressed, be sure to put on your wizard robe and put everything you need to take with you into the pockets because we can't come back here. Understand?"  
  
"Okay."  
  
They dressed quickly and quietly in their wizard robes. Mira wearing her muggle clothes underneath. Snape transferred the items from his coat pocket and put a shrinking spell on the muggle clothes Mira had bought for him and packed them into a pocket of his robe. They crept to the living room, she found her purse and transferred everything to her robe, and picked up the bouquet of lavender and pocketed it as an afterthought. She silently unlocked the front door and they descended the stairs as quietly as possible. Mira tapped her wand against the ground in front of the Guidry's door and a key appeared. She opened the door and Snape motioned her back while he entered the apartment first, wand at the ready. Finding it to be clear, he motioned for Mira to follow. She immediately went to the broom cabinet in the kitchen and pulled out a large but well-worn broom. They were headed back out the front door when they heard glass breaking downstairs in the gallery.  
  
"Oh No! They're in!"  
  
Mira quickly locked the front door to the Guidry's apartment and motioned for Snape to follow her to the back window. She noiselessly opened it and climbed out onto the fire escape. They descended the metal steps and stole silently across the courtyard, their movement muffled by the sound of the fountain. Mira stopped at a small door in the back of the garden. She used her key to unlock it, and the couple stepped out into a narrow dark alleyway that branched off between buildings.  
  
"Come on, follow me."  
  
Snape reached down and clutched his arm. "Mira, can you fly us?"  
  
"I guess. Why? What's wrong with your arm?"  
  
"You know better than to ask. Now move!"  
  
They threaded their way through the maze of alleyways and came out in an overgrown empty lot.  
  
"Can you do the invisibility charm Mira?"  
  
"Not completely, but it'll surely make us harder to see against the night sky."  
  
"Then do it, come on, we're out of time."  
  
Mira cast the charm, and the professor climbed onto the broom behind her and wrapped his left arm tightly around her. She kicked off from the ground, and they rose to just above the tops of the buildings and trees. He made a pained noise and tensed up behind her.  
  
"It won't be long, it's not that far," she said over her shoulder.  
  
Mira touched the broom down in the clearing of a wooded area a couple hundred yards from the back entrance of the plantation house. She dismounted the broom and turned back towards the professor. He was very pale and had a sheen of perspiration on his forehead. She helped him off the broom, and performed a shrinking spell on it and slipped it into her robe pocket. Snape walked unsteadily to a large tree stump and sat down on the ground, leaning against it.  
  
"Mira, go! Get it and get back here as quickly as you can, we've got to use those portkeys Dumbledore gave us and get back to England."  
  
"You're sick. You go on without me, I'll follow behind."  
  
"No you won't. We go together. Now MOVE!"  
  
Mira took a few steps backwards, turned, and hurried off through the wooded area towards the plantation house. She crept to the back entrance, and used an unlocking charm to open the door. She crept silently up the stairs and to the attic. She performed the revealing charm on the wall and a narrow doorway appeared. She used one of her keys to open it and stepped into a little closet. She tapped her wand against one of the floorboards and a small trapdoor with hinges appeared. She opened it, reached in, and grabbed the tiny bundle hidden within. She unwrapped the amulet, and pulled it on around her neck and tucked it inside of her robe. Mission accomplished, she made her way back downstairs and out the same way she came in and ran through the woods towards the clearing. 


	26. Be Careful What You Ask For

Author's Notes: A chapter chock full of angsty drama badness. Mira shows her ugly side, Snape shows a brief glimpse of the part of his emotional being that's buried deepest, but only a very brief glimpse. Lots of speculation on what led to him becoming who he is and what he is. My take on what happened between his days as a student at Hogwarts and the end of the GOF book.  
  
Disclaimer: Nothing recognized from the books or movies belongs to me.  
  
Chapter 26: Be Careful What You Ask For.  
  
She entered the clearing and found the professor, crouched on the ground, gripping his forearm tightly.  
  
She fell to her knees at his side, and helped him to a sitting position, wrestling with his voluminous robes. Unbeknownst to him, she had picked his pockets in the process.  
  
"What's wrong? What's happening?"  
  
"I told you I can't tell you. Did you get it?"  
  
"Yes, I've got it, but what's happening to you? What's wrong with your arm?"  
  
"Forget about my arm, let's GO!"  
  
She took a few steps back and stood over him.  
  
"No, not until you tell me exactly what's going on."  
  
"Mira, I am tired of playing games with you, we have to go!"  
  
"Not until you tell me what's wrong with your arm, and what your role in all of this is."  
  
"I told you already, I can't tell you! Why can't you let this go?"  
  
"Because. Because I love you and I know I'll never see you again once we get back to England, and I don't want to lose you."  
  
"Mira, you knew you had already lost me the day that you realized you loved me. Be reasonable, we have a mission to complete!"  
  
"How can you be so cold about it? Or was I just a means of getting to this artifact?"  
  
Snape pulled himself to his feet; Mira took a few steps farther back away from him.  
  
"Mira. I'm only going to say this once. Never, ever doubt for a second that I love you. It's because I love you that I've protected you from the truth and pushed you away. It's because I can't bear to see you harmed that I am willing to send you away, even willing to remove all memory of me from your mind to get you to a safe place! Mira please! If there were any other way it would be different, but it is the way it has to be!"  
  
"NO! It's not the way it has to be! You keep saying that to me, and you're so beaten down and defeated that you're not even able to fight for it. This is your life, your decision. Tell me what I've gotten myself involved in, and I can help you figure out a different way!"  
  
"Mira, I hate to have to do this to you, but this has gone far enough."  
  
Snape reached into his pocket for his wand, and realized it wasn't there. Mira pulled his wand out of her sleeve.  
  
"Is this what you want?"  
  
She reached into her robe and extracted both of the silver portkeys.  
  
"How about these too?"  
  
Snape tried to summon his wand but was unable to do so because of the burning of the dark mark.  
  
He lunged at her to take the wand back and she sidestepped out of his way. He missed and fell to the ground.  
  
"Mira, for the love of God, please don't do this!"  
  
"No, you tell me everything. And then we go back to England."  
  
He pushed himself up onto his knees and looked at her, eyes burning with rage.  
  
"Very well then. You asked for it, and so you shall have it!"  
  
He yanked the sleeve of his robe up past his elbow.  
  
"Do you see this Mira?"  
  
She looked at his arm, and saw an inky black image of a skull and snake where there had been a faint outline just a day before.  
  
"DO YOU SEE IT?"  
  
She nodded her head yes, eyes transfixed on the mark that seemed to glow from within with a dark fire.  
  
"Do you know what it is?"  
  
She shook her head no.  
  
"It's the Dark Mark Mira. Do you know who carries the Dark Mark?"  
  
She shook her head no.  
  
"The Death Eaters, Mira."  
  
Mira looked at him with a confused look on her face and then paled and her eyes grew large. "Y-Y-You?"  
  
"Yes Mira. Remember the Death Eaters? The man with the ring. The man with the wand? You remember them don't you? You should. Especially the man with the wand."  
  
Mira looked at him with horror and glanced down at the wand in her hand. She dropped it onto the ground and recoiled from it as if it were on fire. She looked back up at him and the memory of the night in the cathedral came rushing back to her. She forced herself to focus on the man with the wand. As the threads of recognition began to wind their way through her consciousness, she started to feel a sickening swirling rushing sensation. "You?"  
  
"Yes, Mira. Me."  
  
The words hit her consciousness with the same force that the curse had hit her body with that night months ago. She felt the ground swaying beneath her feet and the sound of a thousand waves crashing in around her. Everything in the clearing faded gently to black as she slowly crumpled to the ground, unconscious.  
  
Snape pulled himself to his feet and staggered over to her, clutching his arm. He fell to his knees at her side, retrieved his wand and the silver portkeys, and lifted her up off the ground by the shoulders and shook her back to consciousness.  
  
Mira came to consciousness flailing her arms and legs, trying to land a blow on him, but he held her firmly by her shoulders. "You bastard! You fucking evil bastard! How could you do this to me?"  
  
Snape let her flail and scream at him until her initial outburst had faded. Then he turned her onto her stomach, his good hand pinning her arms tightly behind her, one knee planted firmly in the small of her back. He leaned down close to her face and hissed in her ear. "You wanted to know so badly, and you will know it all. Every last bit of it."  
  
"Go to Hell! Just kill me and take the amulet and be done with it. I don't want to know the rest!"  
  
"I have no intention of harming so much as a hair on your head, much less taking the amulet from you. But you will hear me out, and you will know the rest. Do you remember when I took you flying and I showed you what once was my home and told you the story of what happened to my family?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"After I found out my family had all been killed, the final weeks of school went by in a daze. I completed my last term and found myself with nowhere to go. My family was dead, my home was in ruins. The ministry of magic offered me a menial job and a place to sleep at night, but I turned them down. I was convinced that it was their fault my family was dead, after all, they came looking for the wizards hiding in our home, and it was their magic that destroyed the tower. I took what little money I had saved up during my time at school and went to London, where I spent my days wandering through Diagon and Knockturn alley, and my nights drinking my misery away in the tavern.  
  
One night in the tavern, two men approached me, and said that they knew what had happened to my family, and asked if I wanted a chance to get back at the ministry for sending a team of Aurors in to attack a home that housed women and a child. I jumped at the chance. I was taken in and at first I was set up in a laboratory, to make poisons and potions with dubious uses. After a while, when my trust was proven, I was initiated into the ranks and ordered to assist in Death Eater raids. At first they were no more than ugly pranks. I thought I was quite clever, sticking it to the ministry with fear and intimidation. But as time passed, I was sent on more and more violent missions.  
  
I started to wonder what the hell I had gotten myself into. I saw the wizards I was dispatched with committing atrocities beyond comprehension against muggle and wizard alike. Many of them delighted in torturing their victims, got off on the power and pain. By then I was in too deep to back out. The mark was branded into my skin. With it, Voldemort could call me to his side at a moment's notice. He punished any dissenters among the ranks ruthlessly and swiftly.  
  
I retreated into myself and did what I had to do to stay alive. And not a day has gone by that I do not despise myself for being too cowardly to accept death as a way out. I committed atrocities alongside the others, for which there is no suitable punishment. Then Voldemort fell. How that little brat managed to do it, I have no Earthly idea, but he managed to throw the curse right back into the bastard's face. Our Lord and Master defeated by a mere babe, the Death Eaters tried desperately to hold themselves together. I made the mistake of saying that enough was enough and I wanted no more of it, I was going to turn myself in to the ministry and accept my punishment. A group of them attacked me, and beat me and cursed me and even took a lash to me for even thinking of surrendering myself to the ministry. They said that it was not over, Voldemort would be back.  
  
I broke free from them and found myself just outside of Hogsmeade. I remembered that Headmaster Dumbledore was very heavily involved with the ministry and I went to the school to turn myself in. I hoped for a swift trial and a swift punishment, the Dementor's Kiss. Living Death. But the old man took pity on me and fought for my life, and managed to get me released into his custody. He gave me a job, teaching potions at the school, and told me in no uncertain terms that one day I would have the chance to make amends for what I had done, but it would mean certain danger and possibly death. I spent the last decade merely existing, a virtual prisoner in that castle. Living with the knowledge of what I had done and that even with death, there was no way I could ever make amends for all of it.  
  
And then the golden child of the wizarding world, Harry Potter, the Boy-Who- Lived, came to Hogwarts. And with him, came the re-emergence of Voldemort and stirrings amongst his former followers. Last year, the decade of waiting came abruptly to an end. I was asked by Dumbledore to return to Voldemort, as if still a loyal Death Eater. But as a spy. For nearly a year, I have been walking the razor's edge of playing the role of counterspy. Pretending to be spying for Voldemort while all the while pledging my true allegiance to Dumbledore. Playing two Masters while being only truly loyal to one is a dangerous game.  
  
I have grown quite weary of it Mira, and now the game is over. It was over the night in the cathedral when I was forced to place that curse on you. Understand that Mira. I was forced to do it or die. I would have taken that curse a thousand times over rather than inflict it upon you once. But it was the only way I could control the situation and try and get us both out alive. Later that night in the alleyway, the other wizard, the man with the ring, told me that he knew where my true loyalties lay, and he was going to take me down. When I helped get you out of England yesterday morning, I signed my own death warrant.  
  
I will not get out of this alive. Do you understand? Because when we return to England, the pain of the mark will be stronger and unless I return to Voldemort it will kill me."  
  
Mira struggled to look over her shoulder at him. He released his grip on her, and she pulled herself around to face him. "But can't you stay here? Can't you go even farther away?"  
  
"And do what? Live in constant fear of them coming for me, and in constant pain from the burning of the mark?"  
  
"Then do what you have to do, cut your arm off for Christ's sake, at least you'll still have your life!"  
  
He chuckled wearily, and reached up and stroked her cheek. "It simply doesn't work that way Mira. The mark isn't confined to the visible part you see, it's part of my entire being."  
  
"But there has to be another way!"  
  
"No. There isn't. I've known it all along. Either I die in agony from the mark like a coward, or I return to Voldemort and face my death like a man. I have made my peace with it, I'm prepared to face my destiny on my feet, on my own terms."  
  
Tears started to well up in Mira's eyes, and he pulled her close to his chest and stroked her hair with his good hand.  
  
"I'm so sorry Mira. I never meant to let you get this close. I never wanted you to know any of this. I tried to protect you from it but you simply would not let it go. Now please, let's return to England now. Every minute I resist the summoning of the mark, the greater the pain gets. I want to be in control enough when we get back to be able to apparate by my own power."  
  
She reached up and gripped him around the shoulders tightly as he removed the silver portkey Dumbledore had given her from his pocket. She looked into his eyes, and for the first time saw completely and clearly through the façade, to the deepest depths of his being. Pure regret, sadness, longing, despair. And underneath all of it, she saw love. She met his lips with a kiss and clamped her hand down onto the portkey in his hand. 


	27. SelfService and Sacrifice

Author's Notes: None of the main characters in this story are going to die. Happy ending? I haven't decided quite honestly, I have two versions that I'm playing around with. One quite happy, one bittersweet. Depends on where I decide to let the story end. But either way, it won't be pure tragedy.  
  
Disclaimer: Nothing from the books and movies belongs to me.  
  
Chapter 27: Self-Service and Sacrifice.  
  
The couple was instantly transported back to England. Mira's portkey was set to deliver them directly to Dumbledore's office. They arrived just after breakfast time. Dumbledore and McGonagall were sitting in front of the fire conversing when Mira and Snape apparated into the middle of the floor, still clutching each other tightly.  
  
"For Heaven's Sake!" Exclaimed McGonagall, leaping to her feet.  
  
Half a world closer to Voldemort, the pain in Snape's arm increased tenfold. He pulled his legs close to his chest and made a deep roaring noise. Mira jumped to her feet and turned towards the Headmaster and his assistant.  
  
"You've got to help him, he's in terrible pain!"  
  
Snape looked up at Dumbledore and spoke with clenched teeth. "Albus. My robe pocket. There's a case of potion vials. The dark red one. It'll lessen the pain for a while." He sat on the floor, clutching his arm, while Dumbledore rifled through his pockets for the vial. He uncorked it and helped the professor take a drink of the contents. Dumbledore and McGonagall helped him to his feet and over to one of the armchairs.  
  
"I've got to go. The mark's been burning for the past hour. If I don't get out now, I won't be able to get out on my own and I'll have to wait for them to come and get me."  
  
Mira grabbed the older wizard's robe. "NO! You can't let him go, they'll kill him! PLEASE! Do something! Help him!"  
  
Snape tried to get up from the chair and dizzily sank back down in it. "Mira, STOP! Don't make this any more difficult than it already is. You knew what would happen when we got back here, accept what has to be!"  
  
"No! I'm not going to give up that easily!"  
  
"You have no choice in the matter, now please let me leave so that I can do what I must do! I have explained to you numerous times that if there were any other choice, things would not end this way, but I cannot change the way it must be!"  
  
Dumbledore stepped between the two and held up his hands. "Minerva! Keep him in that chair; do not let him go anywhere. Mira! Come with me dear, I need to talk to you."  
  
Mira looked at Snape. McGonagall was standing behind the chair, gripping his shoulders tightly, and preventing him from getting up. Mira looked at Dumbledore with a pleading look on her face.  
  
"It's okay dear, he's not going anywhere until I say he is. Now please, come with me."  
  
She followed him to his private office. He shut the door and bid her sit down, as he took his seat in the chair behind the large wooden desk.  
  
"Mira. I know that this is tremendously difficult for you to accept, but there is nothing that I can do to undo the bond, which links him to Voldemort. Do you understand me Mira, I cannot undo it."  
  
He looked her in the eye with a wry smile and she realized what he was saying.  
  
"But I can. I can use the amulet and break that bond and set him free of it!"  
  
Mira leapt to her feet and turned towards the door.  
  
"Mira! Wait!"  
  
Mira turned back to the headmaster and sat back down.  
  
"Listen to me Mira. He may not want this. He feels as if this is the only way to make amends for what he has done."  
  
"But headmaster, hasn't he done enough?"  
  
"He has punished himself for his actions every day for the past decade. In my eyes, he has paid his debt a dozen times over. His service as a spy and source of information on the inner workings of Voldemort's following has been invaluable. He has wiped the slate clean, and would receive no punishment from the ministry because of the sacrifices he has made and risks he has taken to further the cause. But he feels that no amount of repentance will ever be good enough, and that is why he is so willing to go swiftly to his death."  
  
"Think about this very carefully Mira. Are you willing to use your precious amulet to give him back his life because you believe he would be grateful for it, or because you can't bear to let him go?"  
  
"Headmaster, I."  
  
"Shhh. I don't need to know the answer Mira. The answer to that question is something which you will have to live with once the deed is done."  
  
Dumbledore twined his fingers together and bowed his head in concentration. "I must say he still has a great deal to offer to the resistance. He's the most accomplished potioner that I know of, and he could continue to assist the resistance with his working knowledge of the dark arts. It would be very foolish to waste his talents by allowing him to sacrifice himself in an act of contrition. If approached the right way, he will agree to it so that he may continue serving the alliance between resistance front and ministry, fighting Voldemort and his followers."  
  
Dumbledore sat forward in his chair, looking very serious.  
  
"But Mira, there is something I must ask from you in return, something which you may not be prepared to readily give."  
  
Mira looked at the old man suspiciously.  
  
"When Severus said that you are not safe here, he meant it. I have watched you closely, and I am afraid that I cannot trust you to not place yourself in a dangerous situation trying to help him. And if you go into hiding, I know that you couldn't resist the temptation to sneak back and check up on him. These are dangerous times Mira, and even free from his bonds to Voldemort, he would not be completely out of danger until the dark uprising is completely neutralized. He would also focus on you and I am afraid he will need all of his concentration in the coming months. And once word gets back to Voldemort that you are the one responsible for freeing him, you will be a marked woman."  
  
"What I ask from you in return for allowing you to use your amulet to save him is to remove parts of your memory, memory of the events related to this conflict. And also to send you into hiding in the muggle world, but not back home to America, they've already traced you there once."  
  
"But Headmaster! I'd forget completely about him.. It'd be losing him but just in a different way!"  
  
"Not forever Mira. I want you to let me remove all of your memories related to this conflict, and place them in a pensieve, where they will be preserved and kept safe until the day when this battle is over and you can safely return to England. Then I will return the memories to your consciousness and the two of you will be free to go wherever fate takes you."  
  
"Do I have to lose all of my memories of him? Can't I keep the early ones?"  
  
"The very early ones. No more."  
  
Mira shook her head in consent, sad to not be getting exactly what she had hoped for, but relieved that the professor wouldn't face certain death.  
  
"Who can you go stay with Mira? Do you have family living in the muggle world?"  
  
"My grandmother, in France. She's still alive, and living outside of a small seaside village near Calais."  
  
"Very well. Now, remember what I told you. He may not be at all happy about the decision you have made. Are you sure that this is what you feel is best?"  
  
"I'm sure Headmaster."  
  
"Then so it shall be. Go to him, he hasn't got long until the mark reaches terminal effect."  
  
Mira and Dumbledore rose and returned to the sitting room. Snape was leaning back in the chair, unconscious. McGonagall sat in the other chair, empty crystal vial in hand.  
  
"Albus, he was in severe pain and struggling to leave, I gave him the rest of the potion to try and buy a little more time."  
  
"It's okay Minerva. He won't be leaving our side. Mira has decided to use the amulet to break the bonds of the dark mark."  
  
McGonagall jumped to her feet in protest.  
  
"Albus! This is insane! Think of all the things that can be done with that amulet! It will be a month before we can use it again! Are you quite sure that this is the wisest use for it?"  
  
"Minerva, it's her choice to make, and she has made her choice. Now, please, come with me and I will point out the benefits of this course of events. I also require your skills as a linguist, there's a floo network fireplace in France which I need to contact somebody through."  
  
Dumbledore and McGonagall left the room, giving Snape and Mira some privacy. She went to his side, and kneeled down next to the chair. She undid the first couple of buttons on her robe, exposing the amulet. She then pulled the sneakascope off and laid it on the ground next to her. His arm was resting on the arm of the chair. She gently pushed the sleeve of his robe up to expose the inky black dark mark. He didn't stir in the potion-induced stupor. She rubbed her hands together and looked up at his face. In unconsciousness she saw the same expression of sadness and regret that he always wore when the façade was dropped. She pressed her palms together, and then she placed them over the mark. After a minute of deep concentration, a luminous glow started to emanate from her hands and bathed both of them in what appeared to be liquid moonlight. When the energy had reached its peak, she silently recited the words that would undo the curse and sever the bonds between Snape and Voldemort for good. The light between her hands and his arm intensified to pure silver white and the mark began to lift from the surface, pulling itself from his body in a twisting ribbon of darkness, which disappeared into the light. The last bit of the dark bond was pulled from his body, and the glow started to fade away until it was gone. Mira pulled the sleeve back down to his wrist, rose, and went to the door of Dumbledore's private office and knocked.  
  
McGonagall opened the door, and Mira entered and sat in the chair across from Dumbledore.  
  
"It's done. It's been pulled completely from his body. There should be no trace left whatsoever. He's free."  
  
She reached up and pulled the amulet over her head, and handed it to McGonagall.  
  
"You know how it works, it will be exactly twenty-eight days until it can be used again. When it's recharged, you will put it on, making sure it's touching your skin and not covered by your robes. Then you will rub your hands and press your palms together to start the flow of energy. It'll feel strange, like your body is becoming heavier. Then you either touch what you wish to undo with the palms of your hands, or point your wand towards it. The incantation is "Extundo Plene".  
  
McGonagall looked at the object in her hand, and then back up at Mira with a pursed look upon her face, and slipped it into her pocket.  
  
At that moment, Professor Snape came charging through the door, Mira's miniature sneakascope in his hand; which was trembling with a combination of surprise and anger.  
  
"Mira! Do not tell me that you've done what I think you've just done!"  
  
"I couldn't have lived with myself knowing that I chose not to do it."  
  
"Mira, it was not your choice to make."  
  
"I'm sorry, I did it for you."  
  
"Don't lie to me Mira, you did it for yourself and you know it."  
  
Dumbledore rose from his chair and stepped from behind his desk.  
  
"It doesn't matter why she did it, what matters is that she did. She and I had a chat and came to the conclusion that you are still quite valuable to the resistance cause, and allowing you to return to Voldemort and meet your death would be a shameful waste of human potential. You will continue to serve the resistance, but no longer as a spy. You will serve us as a master potioner, and an instructor of defense against the dark arts to those who will be going into battle. It is very rare indeed to have the expertise of one who has had firsthand experience in how the enemy works. You will forgive us for this decision, will you not?"  
  
Snape stood in the doorway, eyes darting from Mira to Dumbledore, wondering just what had conspired during the time he was unconscious. Dumbledore smiled and walked towards the door.  
  
"Come Minerva, I believe there will be a visitor arriving momentarily, I would like you to accompany me to receive her."  
  
Dumbledore and McGonagall left the office and returned to the sitting room. Snape leaned against the edge of Dumbledore's desk and looked at Mira, who was sitting on the chair across from him. She opened her mouth to speak and he interrupted her curtly.  
  
"No. Don't. I don't want you to try and explain why you did this. I know quite well the real reason why you did. I am not ungrateful mind you. Dumbledore has a point. I can offer more in the fight against Voldemort alive than dead. But none of this means that you will be able to remain here with me. If anything, your life is even more in danger now than before. Voldemort will not let the news that his servant was taken from him by a mere woman pass lightly. He'll send Death Eaters after you, and your only chance is to hide in the open, within the muggle world. But even then, you cannot have any contact with me or the wizarding world Mira, none whatsoever, because it could be intercepted and traced to you."  
  
"I know. Dumbledore already told me. He's going to remove my memories of anything related to this conflict and store them away in a pensieve until the wizarding war is over. You'll be free to do all that you can to help the resistance without having to worry about me interfering. I'm afraid that no matter how hard I tried, I simply could not find a different way for us."  
  
"You tampered with fate Mira. You had no right to do that. But I am grateful that you did."  
  
She stood and let him take her into his arms. He stroked her hair gently and whispered into her ear. "Don't be sad Mira. Remember what I told you the night after we went flying? That if there were any other way, this would be a beginning?"  
  
She shook her head yes.  
  
"That promise still stands."  
  
She placed her hand on his cheek and looked up into his eyes. She saw something new there. For the first time, she saw a faint glimmer of hope in his eyes. She pulled his face towards hers and kissed him. "When this battle is over, and Voldemort is gone for good, and his followers are rounded up and captured, you come find me. Dumbledore may remove my memories, but I will not forget you."  
  
They held each other tightly until there was a knock upon the door. Dumbledore stepped into the office and closed the door behind him. "Mira, it's time." 


	28. Fragments of a Dream

Author's Notes: Short chapter detailing the memory removal. Something Dumbledore says comes back to haunt him in the next chapter.  
  
Disclaimers: Nothing from the books or movies belongs to me.  
  
Chapter 28: Fragments of a Dream  
  
Dumbledore entered the room, motioned for Mira to sit in the chair in front of his desk, and then turned towards the professor. "Severus, I'm afraid that I will have to ask you to step into the sitting room while I perform the memory extraction." Snape nodded and went to the door and walked out of the office. He stopped and took one last look at Mira, and closed the door behind him.  
  
Dumbledore took a stone basin with strange writing around the rim out of a cabinet of magical objects behind his desk. He set it on the desk in front of Mira and crossed around so that he was standing in front of her.  
  
"There now. This won't hurt a bit. I am going to extract your memories and transfer them to this pensieve where they will be safely stored until they can be returned to you. I will also need to perform a simple charm on you afterwards to implant a false memory of how you came to be here. You will be very disoriented and confused, but the effects are only temporary. You will remember nothing of your time at Hogwarts and nothing of your adventure with the professor. You may have fleeting impressions, especially during dreamtime, but they will not form into concrete memories, they will be merely fragments of a dream, more emotional than conscious. Are you ready Mira?"  
  
"Yes, I'm ready."  
  
"You have served your purpose very well my dear."  
  
Dumbledore raised his wand and muttered a brief incantation. A cloud of gray mist flowed from his wand and enveloped Mira's head. She quickly drifted into a state of unconsciousness. Dumbledore spoke another incantation and began to draw his wand around over her head in circles. A stream of silvery images began to spiral up from the center of her head and swirl around like a mercury whirlpool above her. Dumbledore watched the images playing backwards until he came to the day in the tailor shop when the professor came to be measured for his new academic robe.  
  
"There, she can keep that one" said Dumbledore as he flicked his wand gently, the memory of the fitting spiraling gently back into her head. He used his wand to direct the spinning vortex of memories above the pensieve on the desk. He spoke an incantation, and the memories spiraled down into the bowl, swirled and then settled into a softly undulating surface of quicksilver.  
  
He carried the basin to the cabinet, and replaced it on the shelf. He returned to Mira and performed a memory charm on her, so that she would not have unaccounted for missing time. He looked at her and smiled, and as an afterthought embellished the story a little. Once the procedure was finished, he went into the sitting room and asked Mira's grandmother, who had just arrived, to join him in his office.  
  
Dumbledore performed a waking charm and Mira came slowly to consciousness, with a very puzzled and dazed look on her face. She looked up at the headmaster.  
  
"Who, who are you?"  
  
"Mira, I'm Headmaster Dumbledore, you're at the Hogwarts School outside of Hogsmeade."  
  
"Why am I here at the school?" She looked around the room, trying to get her bearings.  
  
"Grand-Mere. What, why are you here? What happened?"  
  
Mira's grandmother, Eloise DelMare, stepped forward and placed her hand on Mira's shoulder.  
  
Dumbledore leaned against the desk in front of the two women.  
  
"Mira, there was an accident. You were walking home late from the café with your friend, and the two of you were attacked by dark wizards who wanted to rob you. Your friend managed to run away, but in the confusion, you fell down and hit your head very hard. You were unconscious for a very long time, we were not sure you would ever wake back up."  
  
"But how did I get here, to the school?  
  
"One of the professors here at the school was in the village running an errand and he found you on the ground and brought you back to the school. It was decided that it would be dangerous to move you in your condition, so you remained here for treatment. You woke up earlier today, and we helped you to my office so that your grandmother could take you home. But, I'm afraid that the walk was too much for you and you passed out when you got to my office. Your memories will come and go, due to the head injury, but you will recover completely in time."  
  
"Why can't I go back to the store or to stay with Susan and Albert?"  
  
"Mira dear, while you were unconscious, many things happened in the wizarding world. There has been an uprising of dark wizards and witches, which is leading to an all out war. Your cousin and her family are safely in hiding, waiting out the conflict. You must go stay with your grandmother, and live as a muggle until this battle is over with. The dark wizards who attacked you are wanted men, and they are afraid that you could identify them to the ministry. Until they are rounded up with the rest of the enemy forces, you cannot return to England. And I'm afraid you cannot return to your home in New Orleans either. There are dark wizards working there as well. The only real safe place for you to be is with your grandmother in France."  
  
Mira looked at the old wizard, trying to find familiarity in his words. Slowly, a look of recognition came across her face as she remembered bits and snatches of the story he was telling her.  
  
Dumbledore reached into his pocket and pulled out the miniature sneakascope he had previously sent Mira away with. "Mira, this is called a sneakascope. To any muggle who sees it, it is simply a very fancy little glass bauble on a chain. But you must wear it always. If it starts to vibrate, it means that there is somebody who intends to do you harm nearby. If it ever starts to tremble, you need to get to a safe place. You need to lose yourself in a crowd of muggles so that you will not be spotted. I'm also afraid that you cannot send owl post to any of your wizarding friends or family until this battle is over. Do you understand?"  
  
"Yes headmaster Dumbledore, I understand."  
  
"Please dear, call me Albus, my students call me headmaster."  
  
She smiled at the old wizard. "Okay Albus."  
  
"Now I'm afraid you must go. Your grandmother needs to get you settled in at home. Arrangements have already been made in New Orleans; your tenants send their love and wishes for a quick recovery. When this battle is over and done with, you may return and visit them, but not a day sooner."  
  
Mira's grandmother patted her on the shoulder. "Come chere, it is time for us to go."  
  
Mira rose shakily, and leaned lightly on the old woman. Dumbledore showed them to the floo network fireplace and bid them farewell.  
  
Once the two women were gone, he opened the door of the office and called Snape back in. "Come Severus, we have much work to do to prepare for battle." 


	29. Battle Cries

Author's Notes: This chapter is how I envision the way the wizarding war would play out. Would there be any outstanding heroics? Or would it be anticlimactic? Snape also has a revelation regarding Dumbledore as well as finds closure on a troubling issue in battle.  
  
Disclaimers: Nothing recognized from the books or movies belongs to me.  
  
Chapter 29: Battle Cries.  
  
War broke out between Voldemort and the resistance alliance the first week of the New Year. Many students returned early to Hogwarts, their families believing it was the safest possible place for them during the uncertain times of war. Hogwarts School became a sort of headquarters for those fighting with the resistance-ministry alliance. Dumbledore fell naturally into the role of general, planning strategies and cultivating further allies with wizards of other lands.  
  
Snape was entrusted with the training of witches and wizards who would be going into battle. His unique expertise in the dark arts and knowledge of the methods employed by Voldemort allowed the resistance to have a definite advantage. He also supervised the workers who toiled in the potions laboratory, which churned out flask after flask of healing and defensive potions. He was also called upon from time to time to brew up a batch of Veritaserum to be used in questioning of captured Death Eaters and other Voldemort sympathizers. He assumed his new role with intensity and seemed to have found a new purpose in life. Gone with the dark mark were the feelings of resignation and intense self-loathing. There was quite simply no time to wallow in the past, for there was work to be done. Still short tempered and abrasive, the spiteful edge seemed to be erased from his personality. He actually smiled from time to time, when the news of a victory came in from the front.  
  
The battles raged in the countryside, away from the eyes of muggles, who were only vaguely aware of some kind of turmoil happening around them. Many wizards and witches were hurt. Some died. However, a few were saved with the amulet given to McGonagall by Mira. Most of the casualties were treatable, and by springtime, the tide had begun to turn in the favor of the alliance when the dementors broke away from Voldemort's side and simply drifted from battlefield to battlefield, feeding on the violence and destruction of both sides.  
  
Those students who did return to school in the spring, were taught classes as normally as could be expected. Many however did not return after the holidays. Most notably close to three fourths of those in the Slytherin House were unaccounted for. Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, were all among the missing. The spring term came and went. Some of the students stayed on in the castle for protection, many left for the summer, not sure if they would be coming back in the fall.  
  
One evening during the summer months, Professor Snape had been called to Dumbledore's office for a strategy building conference. He arrived early, while the headmaster was still downstairs in the great hall, giving a pep talk to a group of new recruits. Snape paced around the small office, and his eyes were caught by something in a glass front cabinet against the back wall. He recognized it as a pensieve, but a much smaller one than the one Dumbledore used for himself. He realized that it must be Mira's pensieve and opened the cabinet for a closer look. He looked around, and figured that a quick peek wouldn't hurt anything, and he'd be done well before Dumbledore returned.  
  
He touched his wand to the shimmering fluid and it started to swirl. Images took shape in it, like projections on a screen. He found himself being drawn deeper and deeper until he was there in Mira's memories, seeing them through her eyes. She was running through the woods from the plantation house. It was the memory of their confrontation in the clearing, where she had found out everything about his past. He didn't want to be seeing this, but he was powerless to leave the scene. With a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, he relived the confrontation and actually felt the horror and confusion she had felt. At the end of the sequence, the scene around him swirled to another memory. He saw her last thoughts, there in Dumbledore's office, as he began the procedure to extract her memories. Something Dumbledore had said to her caught in his mind. "You have served your purpose very well my dear." What exactly had the old man meant by that? What "purpose" had she served? As the professor tried to wrap his mind around the comment and figure out just what it had meant, he felt a gentle tugging sensation, and then in an instant was swept back up and into his own consciousness.  
  
He turned and saw Dumbledore standing behind him, wand in hand.  
  
"Albus. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have been there."  
  
"It's okay, my friend. How long has it been now? Six months?"  
  
Snape crossed the floor and sat wearily in the chair in front of the desk, shoulders forward, wand in his hands. "Something like that. Six months, seven months. Things are moving so fast, it's hard to keep track. Have there been any reports of fighting in the North of France?"  
  
"No, all the battles on the French front have taken place south of Paris. There has been no involvement with any muggle towns or villages. She should be fine. She's a clever girl, she knows how to take care of herself."  
  
"If I could just see with my own eyes that she's okay."  
  
"It won't be long now, the tide has turned. The Death Eaters are on the run. Several have turned themselves in over the past week. I am confident that the final battle will come within the next few weeks. One way or another, we will see this war ending very soon."  
  
Snape sat across from the headmaster, deep in thought, a worried expression on his face.  
  
"But, something else is bothering you, isn't it? Something that you saw in Mira's pensieve."  
  
Snape looked up at the headmaster, who wore an unreadable expression on his face.  
  
"Actually Albus, yes. I did see something in there that troubles me. What exactly did you mean when you told Mira that she had served her purpose well?"  
  
Dumbledore rose from his chair and started to pace around his little office. "Surely you have figured out already that some things happen for a reason?"  
  
Snape shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "I'm not exactly sure what you're implying, but yes, I will agree that some things are beyond coincidence and random chance."  
  
Dumbledore crossed in front of his desk, and stepped behind the professor's chair, giving him a fatherly pat on the shoulder as he passed. "Come now. Didn't you ever wonder why I was so insistent that you go into the village to get measured for that robe in person?"  
  
"Albus. Are you trying to tell me that you set the whole thing up?"  
  
"My friend, have you ever heard the muggle phrase: Kill two birds with one stone?"  
  
"Yes, but I am having a very hard time figuring out how muggle clichés fit into the topic of discussion."  
  
"Severus. When you were a boy here at school, you used to enjoy skipping stones off of the surface of the lake, did you not?"  
  
"Yes, I did. But I am afraid that I don't understand what kind of connection you are trying to make here."  
  
Dumbledore smiled at the professor benevolently, and sat back down.  
  
"You may think of it this way. The stone does not skip across the waves without being cast. You choose a stone that you feel is suitable for skipping, and cast it with the proper force to get a good run. You have a pretty good idea of which direction it will go, and how far it will go, but ultimately you know that once the stone leaves your hand, it passes into the hands of fate.  
  
The day I sent you to the village to be measured for that robe, I cast two carefully chosen stones out across the water. Apparently I chose very well, because they traveled straight along the path that I had anticipated they would."  
  
Snape sat forward on the edge of his chair, a very serious look on his face. "Just where do you get off playing games with peoples' lives? She could have been killed by the Death Eaters, I could have been killed as well."  
  
Dumbledore gave a heavy sigh and looked at the younger wizard, a look of weariness in his eyes. "Desperate times sometimes call for reckless measures. I knew that you were not in an emotional or physical state to survive a full-blown wizarding war. I also knew that without that artifact, our chances of winning would be greatly minimized."  
  
"Then why didn't you just go to her and retrieve it yourself?"  
  
"Because I was able to kill two birds with one stone Severus."  
  
"I am no longer in the mood to play word games with you Albus. Now tell me exactly what you were playing at."  
  
"Isn't it obvious? The answers are all there within your own mind, must I really spell it all out for you?"  
  
"Humor me."  
  
"Very well then. The resistance needed the artifact, and you and Mira needed each other. I knew that you would never seek out companionship on your own, and she would most likely wind up settling for an unfulfilling match with one of the local merchant wizards. So, I set the wheels into motion."  
  
"How could you have possibly known that it wouldn't all go terribly wrong?"  
  
"I have my methods Severus. You have often wondered how I new things, have you not?"  
  
"I suppose you delayed this meeting on purpose, and left the pensive in an open cabinet on purpose too?"  
  
The old wizard just shrugged and gave a wry smile and conjured up a battlefield map on his desk so that the strategy planning session could commence.  
  
The last of the battles raged closer to Hogwarts. Most of the casual supporters of Voldemort had already fled, recanted, or been captured. Those who were left were the hardened Death Eaters with nothing left to lose, and they fought brutally. Many witches and wizards died on the battlefields in the skirmishes leading up to the final battle.  
  
The final battle was fought when the last half dozen of the Death Eaters, led by Voldemort himself, breached the protective wards and charms protecting the perimeter of the school grounds. The last use of Mira's amulet was to save the life of the eldest Weasley son, who had been felled on the battlefield. Everybody who was capable of performing offensive and defensive magic swarmed out of the castle to take part in the final melee on the school lawn, even the upper level students who were staying on over the summer holidays.  
  
The Death Eaters were greatly outnumbered and brought down swiftly. Snape, fighting alongside a pair of his seventh year Slytherin students and Arthur Weasley, finally managed to even the score with Lucius Malfoy. A particularly vicious string of curses was deflected back onto him from four directions, mortally wounding the man who had become Snape's nemesis.  
  
After being ordered to remain safely within the castle at the start of the battle; Harry and Ron joined the final charge on Voldemort himself. The Dark Lord didn't go down without a fight, and several students and alliance wizards were slain. Ron was knocked out cold with a stunning spell and Snape was called upon to help treat the wounded and comfort the dying. Those who remained standing, joined Dumbledore in the final assault. Not willing to be denied his destiny, Harry fought his way to the front of the line, and along with Dumbledore and McGonagall, delivered the final blow that ended the war. 


	30. Victory Dance

Author's Notes: This is it, the last chapter. Which ending did I go with? Heh, read and see. I deliberately wrote the war as anticlimactic because it really isn't the climax of this story. So, there was a reason for such a short historical type description of the battle.  
  
Disclaimers: Nothing from the book belongs to me. Oh cruel fate!  
  
Chapter 30: Victory Dance.  
  
The battle over, Voldemort defeated, a solemn hush came over the battlefield. The earth was scorched in several places; bodies of Death Eaters and alliance fighters alike littered the ground. The dead were brought together for burial, the wounded carried into the makeshift infirmary in the great hall. The survivors clustered together, still in shock from the violence and adrenaline rush of battle.  
  
That evening, word spread quickly through the wizarding world regarding Voldemort's defeat. The celebrating began at sundown and lasted throughout the entire night. The sky was alight with colored sparks and flashes. Muggle scientists were at a loss to describe the display and explained it away as some form of exotic heat lightning brought about by the unusually temperate summer weather.  
  
The celebratory mood was not shared by all however. Harry Potter was having a very hard time as the death of Voldemort affected him in a way that was not entirely unexpected. Ever since his encounter with the dark wizard as a baby, Harry had a sort of psychic bond to him that resulted in a traumatic reaction at the moment of Voldemort's death. Harry was stricken with a severe headache and nosebleed. He was treated by a medic and advised to take it easy for a few days, while the symptoms faded.  
  
Dumbledore gave a brief speech and retired early, the stress of the battle wore heavily on both his body and mind. There would be much work to do in the coming months. Deciding on proper punishments for the captured Death Eaters, and helping the injured and those widowed or orphaned from the battle move forward with their lives. He would be called upon to lead the wizarding community in picking up the pieces. He needed his rest.  
  
Professor Snape drifted uneasily on the fringes of the celebration, accepting a congratulatory goblet of cider, and a handshake here and there from those who had also been present at the final battle. He felt a sense of nagging unease. He knew in his rational mind that Voldemort was gone, and virtually all of the Death Eaters had been destroyed or captured. Those few remaining at large wouldn't even think of banding together. They would remain in hiding or start a new life for themselves elsewhere, in a place where they were not recognized as having had ties to the Dark Lord. The threat was over, but he found himself unable to relax and join the celebration. He quietly slipped away from the crowd, and went down to his chambers and sat up the rest of the night, rehashing the battle over and over again in his mind.  
  
He finally drifted off to sleep shortly after dawn the next morning and slept through most of the day. Early that evening, he was awakened by a knock at his door. He opened it to find Dumbledore standing with a large black wooden box in his arms, a small velvet pouch sitting on top.  
  
"I do believe it is time that we returned these things to their rightful owner, wouldn't you agree Severus?"  
  
After a moment of confusion, the professor realized that the large box must contain the pensieve and the small pouch the amulet. He grabbed up his robe and hastily buttoned up as he followed the headmaster into the dark forest, just past the apparition barriers.  
  
The two wizards apparated to the location given to Dumbledore by Mira's grandmother, earlier that day. They found themselves in a rose arbor beside a small country cottage near the sea in the Calais region of France. Dumbledore handed the box and pouch to Snape and led the way to the front door of the cottage and knocked. A plump old woman answered the door. "Aaah yes, Headmaster Dumbledore. I have been expecting you. Won't you come in, I will fetch Mirabelle." The old woman disappeared into the back part of the house.  
  
"Mirabelle. There is somebody here to see you, chere." Mira looked up from her book with a puzzled look.  
  
"Who could be here to see me? Is it Susan and Tricia?"  
  
"No, chere. It is somebody from the Wizarding School in England."  
  
"The Wizarding School where I went after I got hurt?"  
  
"Yes, chere. They need to talk to you, they have something you left behind at the school."  
  
Wondering what she could have possibly left behind at the school, Mira followed her grandmother to the front of the house, where a very aged wizard with lots of white hair and wearing flashy robes was standing near the door. Behind him stood a much younger man, taller, with long black hair, wearing somber black robes. The younger man held a box and pouch, and something looked vaguely familiar about him.  
  
The older man reached out for her hand. "Mirabelle. How nice to see you again. Do you remember me? My name is Albus Dumbledore, I'm the headmaster at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in England."  
  
"Yes. Yes, I remember you now. You're the man who told me how I got to the school, and who arranged for my grandmother to come take me home. "  
  
"Very good Mira, and do you remember my colleague here?"  
  
"Um, I think so. Wait! Yes, I have met him before. I met him when the professors came to the tailor shop to order their robes. They did get their robes didn't they?" She looked at the man standing behind the headmaster, blushed slightly and looked away.  
  
"Yes dear, they got their robes."  
  
"I don't mean to be rude, but grand-mere says that you came to return something that I left at the school. But I don't remember leaving anything at the school. Are you sure you're not mistaken?"  
  
"No my dear, I am quite sure that these items belong to you."  
  
Dumbledore turned around and took the pouch from off of the box and handed it to Mira. "This is a necklace that I believe has been passed down to you from generations of your family."  
  
Mira opened the pouch and removed the amulet and a strange look came over her face.  
  
"Headmaster, this is mine, but how did it wind up at the school? It's supposed to be hidden in the United States?"  
  
"Mira dear, the contents of the box my colleague is holding will shed some light on that question and all the rest that you must be asking yourself right now. If you don't mind, there is a simple spell procedure that needs to be performed. Nothing serious mind you, just a routine diagnostic spell to make sure that your head has healed properly and has had no permanent damage."  
  
"Okay, but I feel fine. Honestly."  
  
"It's okay dear, it won't hurt and it'll only take a minute. Why don't you sit down and close your eyes."  
  
Mira looked at her grandmother, who nodded in approval. She sat on a parlor chair in front of a large window that overlooked the rose garden beside the house. Dumbledore stood beside her and Snape set the box down on a small tea table next to the chair. The headmaster then pulled his wand out and performed a simple spell to render Mira in a dream like state for the memory transfer. He turned to the professor.  
  
"Are you sure you can do it by yourself Severus?"  
  
"Yes, I'm quite sure I can manage the transfer on my own."  
  
"Very well then. I shall leave you to it."  
  
Dumbledore turned towards Mira's grandmother and extended his hand. "Eloise, let us retire to your lovely garden and give my colleague room to do the procedure."  
  
The old witch and much older wizard walked out to the garden, arm in arm, admiring the flowers before taking a seat on a garden bench. On the other side of the window, professor Snape had removed the pensieve basin from the black box, and placed it back on the tea table.  
  
He took out his wand, and muttered a short incantation. He then began to swirl the tip of his wand in the liquid silver substance contained in the pensieve, creating a whirlpool. Once the liquid was swirling quickly, random images began to flash across it like motion pictures projected onto a screen. He raised his wand and a ribbon of the substance trailed behind from the bowl. He positioned his wand over Mira's head and swirled it around in the air until all the memories from the pensieve were twirling about above her head.  
  
He recited an incantation and tapped his wand to the top of Mira's head. The memories spiraled down and back into her mind. She gasped from the shock held her hands against her eyes, as if trying to force a headache away. She felt a dizzying sensation and began to see random flashes of memories that weren't her own flashing inside her mind's eye.  
  
The images slowed down and started to come together in sequential order. They played through in a loop, the first time quite fast, the second time much more slowly. She realized that the memories were her own, but were very confusing. Then it all started to come together.  
  
Out in the garden, Eloise DelMare clutched the headmaster's hand and watched apprehensively through the window as the younger wizard performed the spell that would return her granddaughter's memories. Her conversations with the headmaster before taking Mira home the previous winter, and then again earlier that day made her nervous as to how Mira would react once her memories were back in place. Some of them were quite traumatic. But Dumbledore was a great man and she trusted him. And she also trusted his younger colleague, this man who had come to love her granddaughter during their adventures together.  
  
Mira rubbed her eyes and looked up at the man standing before her. After a few seconds a look of recognition washed over her face and she leapt from her chair into his arms, crying. He held her tightly against his chest, eyes closed, with a faint smile working its way across his mouth. 


	31. A Dark Cloud Looms on the Horizon

Author's Notes: Sorry for such a delay, I just lost the inspiration to write for a while. The first 20 or so chapters were pretty much done before the story was posted, and the first part of the story was finished and went up quickly. But these chapters will come more slowly.  
  
I decided that the story wasn't over by a long shot, and instead of writing a sequel, I'm going to just continue on. This half will deal with the aftermath of the wizarding war, how it affected the lives of some of the characters, and the new threats looming on the horizon. Details of the final battles and their aftermath will be explored through flashbacks and memories.  
  
This chapter has a flashback, and sets the stage for the second half of the story. Oh and some heavy sexual innuendo thrown in for good measure. No "bodice ripper" scenes in this chapter, maybe later.  
  
Disclaimer: Characters and themes recognized from the books and/or movies do not belong to me in any way, shape, or form.  
  
Chapter 31: A Dark Cloud Looms on the Horizon  
  
The rumbling of distant thunder grew steadily louder as the summer storm rolled in from the Gulf of Mexico, and worked its way towards the city of New Orleans. In a top floor apartment, above an art gallery on the edge of the French Quarter, a dark haired man tossed and turned fitfully in his sleep.  
  
His dream mirroring the booming and flashing of the storm clouds, Severus Snape, potions master and instructor at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, re-lived the final battle against Voldemort and the Death Eaters in his mind. He had been underground, in the potions laboratory, when word came that the school's defensive perimeter had been breached. He ordered all but the seventh year students to remain in the castle, and rounded up every witch and wizard of age who were skilled enough to stand a chance in battle, and led them up out of the dungeons towards the school grounds turned battlefield.  
  
He noticed that some foolish seventh-year Gryffindors had tried to launch air attacks from astride their Quidditch brooms. In the confusion, he was only able to slow one's fall when they were batted out of the sky like flies by a spell cast from a single Death Eater. The other two, a boy and girl, fell to the ground with a sickening thud. The girl was unconscious and bleeding from her ears and nose, but the boy unfortunately had not been knocked out by the impact and was rapidly going into shock from his injuries. Snape flagged down Molly Weasley and another witch from the countryside who had been pressed into service as field nurses. The women levitated the students and hurried them into the great hall, which was serving as an infirmary. Snape worked his way through the crowd, looking for Dumbledore. Unable to find him, he spied the deputy headmistress, McGonagall, conversing with a group of ministry wizards. He voiced his misgivings over allowing students to fight, as they were grossly outclassed, and would be slaughtered. McGonagall agreed but said that because they were of age, they had the right to give their lives in battle if they so desired. She didn't like it, but they needed all the help they could get, and even if all they did was serve as cannon fodder, the final year students would not be denied a chance to fight. Disgusted at the wasteful loss of young lives, Snape stormed off into the chaos of battle.  
  
He spied a couple of his final year Slytherin students, two of the handful that had returned to classes once the war broke out, who had stayed on through the summer holiday to help prepare healing potions. They were standing back to back, in a defensive posture, as the battle raged closer and closer into the school grounds. Snape approached the pair and told them to come with him; together they would back up any alliance witches or wizards who needed help. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a flash of silvery blonde hair pulled free from underneath the hood of a Death Eater cloak. Lucius Malfoy had two ministry wizards, Arthur Weasley and his colleague Perkins, pinned down under heavy fire, the two ministry wizards barely able to deflect and dodge the curses being cast at them. Snape motioned for his students to follow him and they took off across the field, towards the fight. They were within a hundred feet when Perkins went down, and Malfoy turned his full attention to Weasley. The professor and his students ran to assist, wands drawn.  
  
Malfoy turned to face the trio. "For shame Severus. Has Dumbledore sunk so low as to be sending children into battle like lambs to the slaughter?"  
  
The seventh year girl flushed with anger. "I'll have you know, I am not a child, and I come willingly to fight."  
  
Malfoy laughed and fired a curse at the girl, she dodged but it glanced off of her left shoulder, searing through her robe like a jet of steam, burning the flesh underneath. Snape and Weasley fired off spells that sent Malfoy tumbling backwards onto the ground. He rolled onto his knees and fired a string of devastating curses at his adversaries, and all four performed a deflecting spell simultaneously, sending the full effect of the curses combined back at Malfoy. The energy blast hit him square in the chest, knocking his wand from his hand, and throwing him flat onto his back. Snape approached the man and knelt down beside him.  
  
"The battle between you and I Lucius ends here and now."  
  
Malfoy laughed softly and said between labored breaths: "You traitorous bastard, it ends only when I say it ends."  
  
Snape picked up Malfoy's wand, snapped it in half over his knee, and threw it on the ground next to him. Silently, he rose and went to check on his students, to make sure the boy could get his friend safely to the field infirmary. He looked back over his shoulder at Malfoy, who was only barely conscious and having difficulty breathing. That combination of curses was lethal, he'd soon die on the battlefield. Snape looked around and saw several wounded and dead witches and wizards, some of them students, some recent graduates. Very few were Death Eaters. With a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, he took a deep breath and followed Weasley towards the heart of the battle.  
  
Outside the apartment in New Orleans, a large bolt of lightning streaked across the sky, followed momentarily by a booming clap of thunder. Snape snapped to consciousness, grabbing for his wand on the bedside table. He realized where he was, and the let the wave of panic pass. He sat up on the edge of the bed, ran shaking fingers through his sweaty hair, and looked around the small room. Lying beside him, curled up on her side, was his lover, the owner of the building, Mirabelle DelMare. She stirred in her sleep, but was not awakened by the thunder.  
  
The war over, he had accompanied Dumbledore to the Calais region of France, and returned Mira's memories to her. It had been an emotional and traumatic reunion. Many of the memories she experienced again were not pleasant at all. It was decided by Headmaster Dumbledore that both of them needed some time away from the wizarding world, and the professor accompanied Mira back to her home in New Orleans, where she would return her magical amulet safely to its hiding place.  
  
The city was even more foreign to him in late summer, with heat and violent thunderstorms unlike anything he had ever experienced in England. The doors leading onto the balcony overlooking the private courtyard were open, allowing a breeze to circulate through the apartment. As the storm grew closer, the winds picked up, and the curtains started to billow inward like ghosts dancing in the wind. Bells strung from the branches of the large potted trees in the courtyard started to chime.  
  
Snape pulled on the black silk robe given to him by Mira, and tied the sash. He went out on the balcony, and reclined in one of the two large patio chaises to watch the lightning show and enjoy the cooling breeze. He inhaled deeply. The earthy green fragrance of the garden mingled with the sharp ozonic smell of the electrically charged atmosphere. He should have felt extreme relief and peace now that Voldemort was defeated and peace had come to the wizarding world. But something nagged at the back of his consciousness, something not quite right, something looming on the horizon like the storm clouds looming in the distance. He tried to put it out of mind and focused on the flashes of lightning and rumble of thunder growing louder and closer.  
  
He didn't notice Mira get up and approach the doorway. "Beautiful, isn't it? In its own way."  
  
Momentarily startled, Snape looked over his shoulder at her. She was leaning against the doorframe, watching the storm approach. She had on a similar robe, in dark rose colored silk. Unbelted, it fluttered in the breeze. He looked at her with a sharp expression, bordering on disapproval.  
  
"What? Oh for Christ's sake, it's a private balcony over a private courtyard. Do you see any windows on the backs of the buildings across the alleyway? Maggie and Jules are away on holiday, and nobody can see over the courtyard walls from the alley. Besides, if anybody were to catch a glimpse, I'd like to think that they enjoyed the view."  
  
"Well, I'm certainly enjoying the view."  
  
"I bet you are."  
  
Mira closed the glass paned doors, stepped over to the railing, and leaned against it, watching the storm move in. She stretched and inhaled deeply. "God I love the smell of storms." She turned back towards the professor, arms crossed over her chest, leaning against the railing. "How about you?  
  
"It rains a lot in England, but it doesn't storm like this."  
  
"That's 'cause it never gets this hot over there."  
  
"No, it doesn't. That's why I came out here, to watch the lightning and enjoy the breeze, I couldn't sleep."  
  
"You should have said something, muggle homes have air conditioning. I could have made it cooler for you."  
  
"It's okay, it wasn't just the heat."  
  
Mira looked at him pensively. Something had been bothering him ever since their reunion at her grandmother's house. He seemed distant and troubled. She figured that he was suffering the effects of battle, and left him to his broodings. She looked back over her shoulder, the storm was getting quite close, the flashes of lightning illuminating the balcony and courtyard, the thunder rattling the glass paned doors behind them.  
  
"Maybe we should go inside?"  
  
"Maybe we should stay right here." Mira stepped towards the chaise, stood over the bottom half of it and leaned in, bracing herself on the armrests. "Unless you're afraid of a little storm?"  
  
Snape grabbed her by the waist and pulled her down on top of him. "Does it feel like I'm afraid?"  
  
Mira laughed and pushed herself up on her hands and knees, the wind blowing her hair and the flashes of lightning reflecting in her eyes. She sat back on his thighs, and looked up at the sky. The first scattered drops of rain fell, and she giggled with delight. The rain started to come down harder and she raised her arms as if she were welcoming it into her embrace. He pulled her tightly against him and traced a line of kisses from her neck to her lips. The wind picked up force, whipping their hair and clothes around, and the pouring rain caused the thin silk robes to cling like second skins and their wet hair to stick to each other's faces and throats. Lightning flashed very close to the courtyard, followed almost instantaneously by the loud crashing of thunder. Mira screamed and the two of them nearly upset the chaise scrambling to their feet as they fled back into the apartment.  
  
Still laughing, Mira took Snape by the tails of the robe sash and led him into the bathroom. She ran a tub of warm water, and added a generous dose of her lavender bubble bath. They peeled the clinging silk robes off of their bodies like snakes shedding their skins, and tossed them in a heap on the floor. Fragrant steam filled the room, and fogged the mirror. She motioned for him to climb into the bath. Once settled, she lowered herself down in front of him. He drew his knees up slightly and she reclined back against his chest.  
  
Snape reached over and picked up the bar of soap from the holder on the wall. He inhaled the fragrance deeply. It was a pleasant fresh smell that mixed well with the lavender. He soaped his hands up and started lathering her shoulders. Mira sighed and arched her shoulders back towards him, resting her head on his shoulder. He nudged her hair out of the way with his chin and kissed her just below her ear. She bowed her head, giving him easier access to her neck. With a smirk, he shifted position, and started working his hands down towards the small of her back. He grabbed her by the hips and pulled her closer against him, and lathered his hands again. He reached around her waist and worked his slick soapy hands over her throat and down her chest. He caressed and gently squeezed her breasts as he kissed the back and side of her neck. One hand lingered on her chest as the other worked its way down past the curve of her ribcage and the gentle swell of her stomach and parted her thighs. He nudged her chin down and purred in her ear with a deep throaty voice.  
  
"Have you ever made love with, how should I say it. wizarding enhancements?"  
  
Mira shifted her hips, guiding his hand farther down into the warm soapy water. "No, I can't say I've ever heard of anything like that."  
  
"Well now, we shall have to remedy that."  
  
Mira sighed and arched her chest and hips forward to meet his caresses. "What exactly are these wizarding enhancements?"  
  
"Charms and enchantments to temporarily alter the size and shape of certain parts of the anatomy, potions to enhance the libido and heighten pleasure, spells to create magical bonds and achieve levitation enabled positions, and magical objects that do all sorts of naughty things."  
  
"Mmmmm, details please. Tell me more."  
  
Snape chuckled wickedly and whispered in her ear all the delicious things he could do to her with no more than his wand and some simple potions. He scooped up handfuls of bathwater and rinsed the soap off of her, rose from the water and toweled off. While she dried herself off, he retrieved his wand and two small vials of potion from a pocket in his wizarding robe. Joining her in the bedroom, he gave her a demonstration of each and every one of the things he had whispered in her ear. 


	32. Summer in the City

Author's Notes: Not a lot of action in this chapter. A little more background on Mira, and the events that took place at the cottage in Calais.  
  
Some simple loose translations: Aiguille means needle, Chichiteaux essentially means "prissy".  
  
Disclaimers: Nothing recognizable from the books and movies belongs to me. Not a single shred of it.  
  
Chapter 32: Summer in the City  
  
The storm passed swiftly over the city, bringing a typical hot and sunny summer morning. Mira awoke and found herself tangled in damp twisted sheets. She felt a vague tingling sensation throughout her body; the feeling one has following a mild electric shock. She looked over at the clock on the bedside table; it read ten twenty-eight a.m.  
  
She sat up against the headboard, and looked over at her bedmate. He was sprawled on his stomach, one knee bent up, his forehead resting on one arm, the other dangling off the side of the bed, his wand on the floor beneath his hand. Two tiny potion vials rested on the opposite bedside table, both half empty. One a dark red in color, she remembered that one. It had tasted vaguely of chocolate and cinnamon. She gave an involuntary shudder remembering the effects of that potion.  
  
The red potion was a sensory amplification potion; it rendered the user hypersensitive to tactile stimuli. She was unsure exactly what the dark brown one was for, it wasn't offered to her. She figured it had to do with increasing stamina or energy. From the way the professor was soundly sleeping, the effects were definitely temporary.  
  
"So that was wizard sex." She thought to herself. She wasn't quite sure if she liked it or not. It was all a little bit overwhelming. She liked the levitation part; that was nice. It was as if one were floating underwater, but in mid-air. She didn't know if she liked the sensory amplification potion. Maybe she had just taken a bit too much, because she remembered a strange intoxicated feeling and then pleasure so intense as to be bordering on pain, building up to an explosion of sensory overload that caused her to lose consciousness. There were other things she halfway remembered, but whether they were real or figments of a dream, she wasn't quite sure.  
  
She felt stiff and a little sore, and decided that a long soak in a warm bath was just what she needed to start the day. She quietly got up and went into the bathroom. While the tub was filling, she picked up the silk robes from the floor, rinsed them off in the sink, and hung them on the balcony to dry in the sun. On her way back into the bathroom, she walked around the side of the bed, picked up Snape's wand and set it on the bedside table, next to the potions vials. She untangled the sheet and draped it lightly across his body. He stirred in his sleep, shifted position, and exhaled deeply. Mira pushed his long tangled hair off of his face, and returned to the bathroom and lowered herself into the warm water.  
  
She leaned back, letting the warm water loosen and soothe her muscles. She let her mind wander and thought about the events leading up to the present. The months she had lived with her grandmother, in the cottage near the sea. Having her memories returned to her was a shock to the psyche. Some of them were not pleasant at all. Things she was better off not remembering. She had asked Dumbledore why he didn't just destroy the bad ones and preserve the good ones. He had patted her hand and told her that we cannot have light without dark or the light loses its brightness.  
  
It was more difficult adjusting to the flood of recovered memories than it had been dealing with the events as they had happened. But all in all, she didn't regret having her memories preserved and then restored to her, as they brought a sense of completeness. During those months in Calais, she had a nagging sensation at the edge of her consciousness, something she had forgotten, but she couldn't ever place it. She felt a sense of emptiness, but could not figure out what was missing. In dreams, she had vague misty recollections of a man but she never could see his face, or hear his voice. It was just a wisp of a memory, an unstructured image of a dark man and impressions of emotions: Love and longing.  
  
When the two wizards arrived at Grand-mere's cottage, she recognized the younger one, and the pieces started to come together. She knew there was something important about him, but didn't understand until the memory transfer was complete. And then the memories came flooding back, overwhelming her with emotions. She remembered leaping into his arms, clinging to his robes tightly, and crying for what seemed like hours.  
  
With blessings from both the headmaster and Mira's grandmother, they went to her home in New Orleans for a week to make up for lost time together and to get away from the wizarding world for a bit. This was their second day there. The first was spent awkwardly re-acquainting themselves with each other. And then there was last night.  
  
Mira basked in the warmth of the water and the remnants of the morning- after-glow. She finished bathing, and got up and dried herself off. She wrapped the towel around herself and went into the bedroom, where she found the professor awake and sitting up against the headboard.  
  
"Oh, you're awake?"  
  
"Just for a few minutes. How long have you been up?"  
  
"Not long, just long enough to take a bath."  
  
"Ah, well then. What's on the agenda for today? No sightseeing I hope, it's dreadfully hot, and the only muggle clothes I have are suitable for cool weather."  
  
"Oh, that's right. I forgot. Maybe we can do something with what you already have? Make due as best we can, and get you something new at the mall."  
  
"I've heard enough of my female muggle born students tittering about malls and shopping, and you've another thing coming if you think I would be caught dead in a place like that."  
  
"Fine! Fine. No shopping mall. No department stores, no discount suit warehouses. There's a little tailor shop that's owned by a wizarding family. Robes in the back, men's' classic muggle style clothing up front. It's a little on the old fashioned side, but then again, you like the old fashioned side."  
  
"And just what exactly is wrong with the old fashioned side? Why must muggles continuously re-invent the wheel?"  
  
"I don't know, because they can maybe? Whatever you want, the tailor it shall be. Now, why don't you get yourself cleaned up and let's get dressed before it gets too hot to go anywhere outside."  
  
Mira rifled through her closet and dressed in a simple steel blue linen dress and a pair of sandals. She put her hair up in a loose knot and secured it with her little wand and a matching hair-stick. To the casual observer, they were merely a pair of hair-sticks; even most wizarding folk wouldn't recognize them as a wand and its double. Dressed, she sat on the edge of the bed to transfer her necessities from the pockets of her wizarding robe to a small purse.  
  
Snape was busy performing an alteration charm on his one set of muggle clothing, adding extra hidden pockets to the trousers for his wand and the small case of potions vials he carried at all times. He unsuccessfully tried to alter the turtleneck and managed to only remove the high collar. Disgusted with the whole ordeal, he shoved the sleeves up his arms and crossed them over his chest.  
  
Watching his reflection in the mirror, Mira smirked to herself and got up and handed him her hairbrush with an elastic band twisted around the handle.  
  
"Here, better run this through your hair, and you might want to pull it back or it'll be awfully hot."  
  
Hair brushed and back, he tossed the brush back to her in a not so playful manner. She caught it and stuffed it down into her purse.  
  
"Come on, let's get moving, we'll get something to eat while we're out."  
  
He followed her through the apartment and down the stairs to the front door of the building.  
  
"You still have those sunglasses?"  
  
With a patronizing smile, he pulled them out of his pocket and showed them to her. Mira unlocked the door and Snape cringed from the blazing sun and late morning heat. She locked the door behind them and they set off towards Jackson Square and the little tailor shop.  
  
It was a small storefront, a sign shaped like a spool of thread pierced by a needle was hanging out front. A couple of mannequins wearing very formal men's suits stood stiffly in the front window. Mira opened the door and a soft musical chime sounded from somewhere in the back of the store. It was a very old fashioned sort of a place, a few racks of suits stood against one wall, and the opposite wall held shelves stacked with bolts of fabric. In a way, it was very much like Treadle's Tailor Shoppe back in Hogsmeade. A hunch shouldered old man came from behind a heavy velvet curtain behind the counter.  
  
"Well, well, if it isn't Miss Mirabelle. How have you been cherie? That boarder of yours, Jules, was in just last week picking up some alterations. He said you had run into some trouble in England. Bad situation, that business in England, no?. Good to see you home. Now, what is it that can I do for you this morning, hmm?"  
  
"Good to see you too Monsieur Aiguille. I need to ask a favor. My friend here is in desperate need of some warm weather clothes. He's a professor at the Hogwarts School in England, and I'm afraid he has nothing suitable to wear. Something fairly casual if you please."  
  
"Well well, a Hogwarts Professor? All the way here in New Orleans? How very interesting. Let me see, how soon will you need it?"  
  
"Well. I was kind of hoping you could find something in your stock or whip something up right now. This is the only thing he has."  
  
"Oh dear me. Yes, that is a problem. Let's see what we can do, shall we?"  
  
Old Monsieur Aiguille smiled at the professor and took some basic measurements. He disappeared behind the curtain and returned with an armload of clothes.  
  
"Now, I don't have much on hand, but let's see what we can do for you sir."  
  
The old man held up a tropical print cotton shirt, and Snape shot Mira a withering glare.  
  
"Uh, Monsieur Aiguille, let's stick to the more subdued end of the spectrum, okay?"  
  
"Very well. What exactly did you have in mind sir? Something with a jacket, no? A suit perhaps?"  
  
"Just something simple. Button front trousers and a button front shirt. Black, grays, white for a shirt possibly. Nothing fancy, no prints, no checks, no stripes, no tartans."  
  
"Hmmm, the trousers are no problem, here are two pair of linen button front trousers in charcoal that can be altered to fit you right away. Shirts? I don't know, let me see what I have."  
  
The old man sorted through the pile of shirts, sorting them into two stacks. He pulled out a deep blue one and held it up for the professor to see.  
  
"Not quite. Too bright. What's that one there on the bottom, the white one?"  
  
"Aah, yes, here we go. It's a silk and linen blend, very good for hot weather. Not quite white, more of a grayish white, the natural color of the silk."  
  
He handed the shirt to the professor, who held it closer to the light. With furrowed brows, he inspected it in the light, gingerly fingering the shiny mother of pearl buttons.  
  
"It'll do. But can these buttons be replaced with less flashy ones?"  
  
"Not a problem sir. I can put plain unpolished shell buttons on. Give me an hour to do the alterations and to replace the buttons."  
  
"And I shall need a couple of hidden pockets if you please. One to hold a wand, another to hold a small case."  
  
"Very well, no trouble at all."  
  
Mira smiled at the old man and arranged the rejected shirts back in a neat stack.  
  
"Thanks Monsieur Aiguille, we'll see you in an hour."  
  
Mira took Snape by the arm.  
  
"Come on, there's something I want to show you."  
  
She led him through the velvet curtain, which led to a small hallway. To the right was the workshop, ahead was a plain wall. Mira took her wand out of her hair, and tapped it against the wall. The wall transformed into another velvet curtain. Mira pulled the second curtain aside and they entered into a mirror image storefront, except this one was stocked with wizarding robes, and stacks of fancy wizarding style fabrics.  
  
"Remember when I told you that there were very few strictly wizarding places in New Orleans? Well, I'm about to show you the closest thing we have to Diagon Alley in London."  
  
Mira opened the door of the robe shop and they stepped out onto a narrow one-lane alley, which stretched for about a block.  
  
"It's called La ruelle de la sorcellerie. Basically it means sorcery alley. It's in the oldest part of the city. There's only a handful of shops, and less than a dozen residences which have direct back door access to this street. Monsieur Aiguille said about an hour, but we're in no hurry. We've got time to explore around and have something to eat if you wish, there's a small café at the end of the block. There's the robe store, the café, an apothecary, a dry-goods store, a bookstore, and an owl postal center."  
  
Professor Snape stood looking up and down the street, a curious expression on his face. Witches and wizards dressed in a mixture of robes and modern muggle clothes walked up and down between the shops, with parcels in hand, talking in various languages. He recognized French, and of course English, but a few of the languages were very exotic, as were the wizarding folk speaking them.  
  
The alley was mostly in shade; the height of buildings on each side of the narrow lane blocked the sun. He noticed that it was much cooler there, almost pleasant. Even in his heavier winter clothes he was not terribly uncomfortable. Mira rested her hand on his arm to get his attention.  
  
"Look, I know you'll want to check out the apothecary, to see what kinds of potions ingredients we have here that you can't get back home. I need to stop into the dry-goods store to pick up some things to take back to England. Let's meet at the café down by the fountain in say, an hour?"  
  
Mira kissed him on the cheek and headed down the street towards the large dry-goods store, a wizarding "five and dime" if you will. They sold all the everyday necessities of wizarding life: Quills, parchment, ink, commercially bottled potions and tonics, enchanted items for the home, candy, and gift items among other assorted things.  
  
Snape started walking in the other direction, and stopped at the bookstore. He browsed the potions manuals for quite some time, selecting a book on magical plants of the American South; their properties and uses. He was relieved to see that the wizarding stores in New Orleans accepted the same currency as those in England. He asked the clerk where the apothecary shop was located, she pointed to the end of the street, across from the café. He thanked her and exited the shop. He decided to return to the tailor shop and see if his new suit of clothes was ready.  
  
He entered the robe shop started browsing through the rack of robes, looking for something simple, but was having no luck. Monsieur Aiguille came through the back curtain and recognized him.  
  
"Aah, the professor from England. Just one moment, the tailor elf is just finishing with the buttons."  
  
A door creaked in the little hallway, and a small house elf stepped out from behind the curtain with the new clothes over his arm. He was wearing a fancy fringed damask tablecloth, tied around his chest like a toga with a pair of curtain tassels hanging off of his shoulder. The elf gave an exaggerated bow to the professor and handed the clothes to the old man.  
  
"Thank you Chichiteaux, a lovely job as always."  
  
The elf gave a haughty smirk and turned on his heel and retreated behind the curtain with his nose in the air.  
  
"Well, here you are, all ready. Shall I wrap them or would you wish to wear them out?"  
  
"I'll wear them out if you don't mind."  
  
"No, not at all, you can go behind that screen in the corner to change clothes. I shall be writing up the receipt."  
  
Snape took the clothes to the little dressing area, changed into them and inspected himself in the mirror. His belt and shoes looked fine, and the special hidden pockets were more than satisfactory for his wand and potions case. There would even be room for his old clothes, his book, and his sunglasses if he shrunk them enough. He smoothed the front of the trousers, and unbuttoned the cuffs of the shirt and rolled them up twice, to mid forearm. His hand lingered on the place on his arm where the dark mark once resided. Now, there was just a faint blotchy pale area. Sometimes it tingled lightly, but he no longer lived in fear of it. He adjusted the collar of the shirt, undid a few buttons, decided he looked silly, and re-buttoned all but the top two. He noticed his hair was straying from the elastic band, and he pulled it out. He smoothed his hair down with his fingers, and redid the ponytail, frowning at a few gray hairs, which had recently started to sprout from his temples. He turned this way and that, and decided that he looked pretty good for his age and the level of stress he had lived with for all of his adult life. Not a particularly vain man, not like Malfoy or Lockhart, he was nonetheless fussy with his appearance and always dressed smartly.  
  
Satisfied with his new clothes, he performed a shrinking spell on the old ones, his book, and the sunglasses, and tucked them into one of the hidden pockets of the trousers. He thanked the old man and paid the bill, and set off down the street to the apothecary. He had just enough time to pop in and see what all they had. He selected small amounts of several dried herbs and botanicals he had seen listed in the book he had bought. While the apothecary clerk was weighing and wrapping his order, he wandered to the large front window. Mira was sitting at a table out in front of the café, near the fountain. She was sorting through what looked like a box of quills.  
  
He let his mind wander as he watched her. He remembered the night that Dumbledore brought the pensieve and amulet pouch to his chambers and said it was time to return her memories to her. He had the distinct sensation of butterflies in his stomach the entire time, and his stomach leapt into his chest when the old woman brought her into the parlor. What if the memory transfer failed? What if it was too traumatic and she ran screaming from him? Once the procedure was done and she jumped into his arms, for the first time since childhood, he briefly felt as if everything was right with the world. He remembered when she was packing her bags to leave France; her grandmother took him by the hand and led him into the rose garden. Her words were a little unsettling. No, make that quite unsettling.  
  
Mira's grandmother told him that she had heard of his family, and she knew of his history and how he came to be the potions master at the Hogwarts School. She said that she believed him to be a good man who had made some grave mistakes, but nonetheless she felt confident about sending her granddaughter away with him. Dumbledore had vouched for his integrity and she trusted the old wizard completely. If Albus Dumbledore said that he was a suitable match for Mira, then so shall it be. She kissed him on both cheeks and gave him her blessing. Before they went back into the cottage, the old woman took him by the arm, and with a very serious look on her face, delivered a grave warning. He remembered it well. The round cheeked old witch's demeanor completely changed. Her twinkling eyes narrowed and stared through his soul. She gripped his arm firmly and whispered in his ear.  
  
"I am sure you know that my granddaughter is capable of some advanced spells, even a few nasty curses, do you not? If you ever purposefully and willfully harm or allow to be harmed so much as one hair of her head, I will come after you like Hell itself has been unleashed. She learned those curses somewhere. And it was not from the tutor from Beauxbatons! Do I make my meaning clear?"  
  
He gave an inward shudder. The old woman meant business. He wondered if her cousin's husband, Albert, had also gotten "the speech".  
  
The clerk finished wrapping the potions ingredients and bundled them up in a large paper bundle. Snape paid for the botanicals, shrunk the package to a neat little bundle, and tucked it into his pocket. He left the shop and crossed over to the café. Mira was sitting with her back to him. He slid into the chair across from her.  
  
"Hey, your new clothes were ready! How do you like them? They look great!"  
  
"Yes, they are quite nice, much better than the other ones for a summer afternoon."  
  
Mira reached across the table and stroked his cheek with the back of her hand. "Have you ever thought of growing a beard? I think you'd be really sexy with one."  
  
He narrowed his eyes and raised a disapproving eyebrow at her.  
  
"Damn! Don't give me the look! It was just a suggestion."  
  
Mira stashed the box of quills in her purse and waved at a waitress.  
  
"Jeez, let's order some lunch, maybe a full stomach will mellow you out a little." 


	33. Gather Ye Rosebuds While Ye May

Author's Notes: Of course, there can be no absence of evil, you know that.right? Peace in the wizarding world will not last forever. Most are oblivious to the coming threat.  
  
Change is constant, the trio is growing up. And the transition from childhood to young adults brings complications and problems of its own. One of the trio is about to make a very grave mistake and turn down a path that could lead to darkness.  
  
Disclaimer: If you recognize it from the books or movies, it isn't mine.  
Chapter 33: Gather Ye Rosebuds While Ye May  
  
After lunch, the couple strolled through the magical alley for a little while, picking up a few more items in the dry goods store. They made their way to the opposite end of the alley from the fountain, where there was a bricked in archway. Snape un-shrunk his sunglasses, Mira fished hers out of her purse. She traced a symbol on the bricks with her wand and they shifted to reveal a passageway, just like the wall in Diagon Alley.  
  
When they stepped through the passageway, into the muggle city, the temperature seemed to jump twenty degrees.  
  
It was mid afternoon, they had a few more hours to kill before sunset when the rest of the city would cool off.  
  
"Look, I know you don't like the modern part of the city, but would you like to go do something indoors, where there is air conditioning?"  
  
"What did you have in mind?"  
  
Mira led him a short distance to a genteel old house, with a white façade and window boxes overflowing with pretty pink flowers.  
  
"Is this where we are going?"  
  
"It's a private music school, the instructor used to buy antiques from me. I have an open invitation to drop by any time to listen to rehearsals of her chamber music ensemble. If you're up for it, they'll be starting soon."  
  
"Anything to get out of this heat, let's go."  
  
The recital salon was on the main floor. It was a large high-ceilinged room with a dozen antique armchairs arranged in a semi-circle around a group of musicians just getting ready to play. Mira waved at a woman seated behind a harpsichord, she waved back and pointed to two seats near the middle.  
  
About a half dozen people were present for the rehearsal. Mira settled herself into the chair, and whispered in Snape's ear.  
  
"The woman at the harpsichord is Desmonda. She's a witch, she used to buy instruments and furniture from me when I had the antique store."  
  
The group began to play a selection of lush baroque compositions. The professor closed his eyes and lost himself in the music. Over the years, he had allowed himself to become enamored with this one facet of muggle culture, muggle classical music. Dumbledore had first introduced him to it back when he was in his seventh year at Hogwarts. Soothing music. Dumbledore had said that it was magic of a most powerful sort.  
  
When the rehearsal was over, Desmonda came over and gave Mira a hug. Mira introduced the professor to the musician, who hammered him with questions about the wizarding music community in England. Sensing his discomfort over the aggressively talkative Madame Desmonda, Mira made their excuses and bid farewell, promising to try and make it to the recital the following evening.  
  
"Of course, we don't have to go to the recital. I'm sorry, she's a bit overbearing, but she has quite a talent."  
  
The sun was starting to set, and the temperature was dropping to a more tolerable level. The professor suggested that they go for a drink. After meeting Desmonda, his nerves could use something a little stronger than tea or coffee. Mira led him back to the bar they had shared a drink at on their first visit to New Orleans. After a couple glasses of refreshing chilled fruit wine, they made their way back to her building, where she managed to put together a simple picnic meal, and they had supper on the roof of the building between the frames of the two greenhouses, which had their glass panels removed for the warm weather.  
  
The next few days were spent in a similar fashion. Staying up late, sleeping in, and exploring around the old part of the city in the late afternoon and evening. Mira even managed to convince Snape to go with her to a musical performance in an old Victorian-era theater a little farther away than comfortable walking distance. He adamantly refused to use muggle transportation like taxicabs or the car Mira shared with Jules and Maggie. After much pleading and cajoling, he finally agreed to make the short trip to the far edge of the Quarter in a horse drawn carriage. They enjoyed each other and the respite from the intrigue of the wizarding world immensely.  
  
Back in England, there was an alarming chain of events beginning to unfold. In the confusion of the final battle on the grounds of Hogwarts, many of the Death Eaters had not been accounted for. The list of Death Eaters slain or imprisoned was by no means complete. Some had fled the country in fear, some who were never outed as Death Eaters simply phased back into their day-to-day lives. Nobody really knew for sure just how many Death Eaters there were to begin with. Those who had been imprisoned in Azkaban were known to the Ministry of Magic, but there were many more whose involvement with Voldemort was never confirmed.  
  
Even more disturbing, when it was all said and done, some of the bodies on the battlefield seemed to have "disappeared". It was assumed that some were spirited away by loyal friends and family members for private burial. Especially the bodies of high born Voldemort sympathizers. The mortal remains of Lord Voldemort himself were never properly accounted for. Either nothing remained of his physical being, or it too had been spirited away for burial by a devoted follower.  
  
At the end of the battle, all hell had broken loose. Most of the Death Eaters had fled, been captured, or slain. Students and townspeople from Hogsmeade, who had taken refuge in the castle, flooded out onto the battlefield in one final wave to crush the Dark Lord. At the battle's climax, dozens of dementors came rushing out of the forbidden forest, and total chaos ensued. People scattered in all directions, fleeing from the creatures which feasted on suffering. The dementors swarmed the wounded and dying and those who stood shaking in fear.  
  
The final blow came not from one wizard, but from the combined efforts of several. The release of magical energy was so intense as to be blinding. It was several seconds before the survivors of the battle could make out the scorched patch of earth where Voldemort and two of his most loyal followers had stood.  
  
The survivors of the battle wandered about shell-shocked and then erupted into joyful celebration. Well, at least most of them celebrated, there were those for whom the battle had more profound effects. The partying lasted through the night and into the next morning.  
  
Early that next morning, the bodies of the dead were gathered up and brought to a central location and cremated on a large pyre, to discourage scavengers lured by the scent of death from venturing out of the forest. Names were recorded of all who could be identified. However for some unfortunates, there was not enough left to properly identify. The final list of casualties was compiled from the list of the dead and those who never returned from battle. A handful of witches and wizards, believed to have died in battle, turned up over the following few days, having simply gone unnoticed.  
  
Included in the list of bodies never identified and recorded was Lucius Malfoy. His wife, Narcissa, had sent his loyal underlings Crabbe and Goyle to fetch her dying husband from the battlefield. She would not allow somebody of their social standing to die in the dirt like a commoner. Unwilling to let go of him, she sent her housemaid to Knockturn Alley to fetch a dark wizard who was accomplished in the unorthodox healing arts. The wizard said Lucius could be saved, but he would never be complete. He would be a shadow of the man he once was and very dark magic would be needed to preserve his life. Selfishly, Narcissa decided that it was better than nothing and ordered the wizard to use whatever means necessary to preserve her husband's life.  
  
The potion used to heal him contained several highly illegal and horrific ingredients, including blood from a unicorn and hair of a stillborn child. The price for the potion was very steep, but Narcissa was willing to pay ten times over if need be to keep what was left of her husband alive. Not only was his body broken, his mind survived even more twisted and insane than before the battle. His existence was fueled by pure hatred and a thirst for revenge.  
  
As far as Malfoy's son Draco was concerned, Lucius had died in the battle. Narcissa, fearing a Ministry raid and prosecution for her role in assisting her husband as a sympathizer of Voldemort, sent Draco out of the country to live with his aunt. He would not be returning to Hogwarts in the fall, he would resume his schooling at what was left of the Durmstrang School. At least there, his classmates would be more welcoming of him, with his familial connection to dark magic.  
  
At first Lucius thought the nightly visitations from the Dark Lord were purely dreams. After the first few nights, he realized that the disembodied spirit of Voldemort was actually visiting him in his sleep. Lucius informed Narcissa of his nightly visitations, and what had been asked of them. After being visited herself, Narcissa agreed to make essentially a deal with the devil to see her husband restored to full health. Some time would pass however, before Lucius would be healed enough to carry out his end of the bargain. So, the couple bided their time until they would bring a new life into the world, creating a baby born to be the physical vessel which the spirit of Voldemort would inhabit. In return for giving Voledmort's spirit a body, Lucius would be restored to prime condition.  
  
With summer drawing to a close, it was time for Snape and Mira to return to England. School would be starting shortly, and Mira's cousin and her family had returned from Exile in the Middle East, to re-establish their business in England. Unwilling to set foot back in the house where she had been snatched by the Death Eaters, Susan convinced her husband to move the family to a posh home outside of London. Mira was more than capable of running the shop on her own, and Tricia was being sent abroad to study at Beauxbatons.  
  
Snape returned to his quarters in the castle, Mira to her small apartment above the tailor shop. But they spent time together walking around the village and adjoining countryside, enjoying evenings at the tavern and café, and having clandestine trysts at her apartment or just inside the cover of the tree line of the dark forest. When the school term started they would have to be more discreet, and wouldn't have as much time together, so they made the most of the long days of late summer.  
  
After the exoneration of Sirius Black, where all charges against him were dismissed, he fulfilled his duty as godfather and assumed guardianship of Harry Potter. Harry's summer holidays with the Dursley's were over forever. With Sirius at his side, Harry informed his aunt and uncle that he would never darken their doorstep again, and before walking out of their lives for good, he got a chance to tell them what he really felt about them.  
  
Harry spent the rest of summer following the final battle in a state of emotional turmoil. He had hoped that Voldemort's death would be a release for him, a weight lifted from his shoulders. But it was anything but that. For several days, he suffered blinding headaches and severe nosebleeds. His scar burned off and on and he felt a kind of emptiness, as if one of his internal organs had been wrenched out of his body. Dumbledore explained that there was a strong bond between Harry and the Dark Lord, and the severing of that bond upon Voldemort's death had affected Harry in a profound manner. He would eventually come to heal, but he would never be the same, as that part of his being was gone. Harry found that he had lost his gift of being a Parselmouth. He could no longer communicate with snakes. He wasn't particularly sad to see that gift go, it had caused him pain in the past. He also had strange dreams about Voldemort, but was given a potion by Dumbledore that would cause dreamless sleep if they became too disturbing.  
  
Harry spent his days kicking about the countryside surrounding the little cabin Sirius had rented for them to live in until he could find steady work and arrange for more permanent housing. Harry was also able to spend a couple of weeks at the Weasley household. Hermione had come to visit as well. Her parents had prudently removed her to the safety of the muggle world until the battle was over, and then only tentatively allowed her back into wizarding society. It was only after a personal visit from Dumbledore himself that the Grangers agreed to send their daughter back to Hogwarts to finish her education. The three of them were about to enter their sixth year at Hogwarts, poised on the edge of adulthood.  
  
Their personalities had changed little over the years. Harry was still the undoubted leader of the pack, Ron was the comic relief, Hermione the brains of the operation. During that two-week visit, Ron and Hermione had entered into the tentative stages of a romantic relationship. It hadn't progressed beyond blushing and mild flirtation, but the spark was definitely there. Ginny still carried a torch for Harry, and it was just never meant to be with Harry and Cho. However, with the events earlier in the summer, Harry wasn't particularly interested in any relationship that was more complicated than a friendship. He let Ginny down gently, telling her that if she was still available and interested when he was ready to feel that way towards somebody, then it was meant to be. But he secretly mourned the carefree lives that Hermione and Ron lived, and their ability to be lighthearted and flirtatious with each other. He wanted more than anything to have somebody special too, but felt that it wouldn't be fair to bring anybody into his complicated life. He hoped that Ginny would wait for him, but didn't know how long that wait might be and decided he wouldn't fault her if she found somebody at school to go out with.  
  
The trio disbanded and agreed to get back together at the Weasley house a couple of days before the start of term so that they could go shopping together in Diagon Alley and spend some time exploring around Hogsmeade. Ron had been allowed to take a summer job as an errand boy for the Ministry, earning money for his school things and to spend on outings with his more privileged friends. But, still he secretly despised Malfoy for having it all handed to him on a silver platter, and he was also envious of Harry's wealth, talent, and popularity. He was worried about how he would keep Hermione impressed when she had grown up into a young woman who was more than capable of turning heads. 


	34. Back to School

Author's Notes: What would happen if the trio had a "TMI"moment? They're coming into young adulthood, and while their friendships survived past the battle, there have been some changes. A kind of fluffy humorous chapter. I just had to tweak the trio; they need it every once in a while.Heh, they're teenagers, I really want to go more into how they handle their "growing pains".  
  
Oh, and thanks for all the reviews. Glad to know somebody out there's reading! Okay, things have settled down enough that I can commit to a weekly chapter update, maybe even twice a week, it just depends. A couple more chapters are outlined, and being finished, maybe I'll post two next week.  
  
Disclaimers: If you recognize it from the books or the movies, it doesn't belong to me.  
  
Chapter 34: Back to School  
  
The days leading up to the Fall term at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry went by in a flurry of activity. Mira was busy with orders for school robes, and Professor Snape was busy ensuring that the potions lab was properly stocked and the class lesson plans were completed. Still, even with their busy schedules, they managed to steal a few hours together here and there.  
  
Hermione, Ron, and Harry were all given permission to spend the day before start of term in Hogsmeade. Having already bought their supplies in Diagon Alley, they had an entire day free to explore around the village before spending the night at the inn and meeting the other students at the train station the following day.  
  
His pocket full of coins earned as an errand boy for the Ministry, Ron stocked up on enough sweets from Honeyduke's to last him 'till the Christmas holidays. Hermione split off from the boys to send an owl home to her parents, letting them know she had made it to Hogsmeade safely. Harry headed on to the Quidditch supply shop to wait for Ron. On the way down the street from Honeyduke's, Ron saw a display of lovely hair combs and other assorted items in the window at Treadle's tailor shop, and thought of how impressed Hermione would be if he could buy her a fancy gift.  
  
Ron entered the little store. A large brown owl looked up from a perch, hooted, and fluffed its feathers. Mirabelle DelMare came out from the back room and smiled at Ron.  
  
"Hi there, what can I do for you today?"  
  
"Er..Um, Just looking. Looking for a present for my girlfriend."  
  
"Oh, what did you have in mind?"  
  
"Well. those hair combs in the window are awfully nice."  
  
Mira pulled a velvet-lined tray of hair combs out from behind the counter, they were made of bronze and silver, many set with stones. Ron timidly picked up a few of them, and his eyes grew large at the price tags. They ranged from between forty and a hundred and twenty Galleons per pair.  
  
"Maybe something a little less flashy?"  
  
"Why don't you have a look at these silken pouches, they're on sale this week, there are some really lovely embroidered ones towards the bottom of the basket."  
  
"How much?"  
  
"Two Galleons for the small ones, five for the large."  
  
Ron jingled the coins in his pocket, there were just under ten Galleons left. He chose a very pretty large red bag with gold embroidery, the Gryffindor house colors. It wasn't much, but it was pretty, and she could use it to carry her quills and other supplies in.  
  
"I'll take this one please."  
  
"Very well, that'll be five Galleons. She's a lucky girl, that's quite a nice gift."  
  
Ron blushed and counted out his coins for Mira. She wrote up a receipt and wrapped the pouch in extravagant tissue and tied it with a pretty bow. He tucked the parcel into his robe pocket and went to meet Harry. After ogling the new broomsticks, they went back to the inn to meet Hermione for supper. Ron waited until the inn was completely packed with students and their families to present the gift to Hermione. She looked at him with a puzzled look.  
  
"What's this for Ron?"  
  
"It's just a little something I picked up for you as a back to school gift. I figured you could use it for your quills or something."  
  
Hermione carefully unwrapped the gift without tearing the tissue or snagging the ribbon, her eyes lit up at the lovely pouch.  
  
"Oh, Ron! It's absolutely lovely! I don't know what to say. Thank you!"  
  
She stood up and reached across the table and kissed him on the cheek. Ron was blushing beet red and positively beaming. Several students whispered and pointed at them. It was now official. Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley were a couple.  
  
The friends decided to walk over to the café for a fancy frozen coffee drink and a game of cards before they had to return to the inn for the night. Hermione excused herself from the table, she wanted to run upstairs to her room and put her necessities into her new pouch so that she could carry it with her. When she was out of earshot, Harry leaned over close to Ron.  
  
"Ron, that was some present, where'd you get it?"  
  
"I popped in at Treadle's to scope out a nice Christmas gift for her and spotted it on my way out."  
  
"It must have cost a fortune, Treadle's isn't cheap."  
  
"I could afford it. Remember I had a job over summer."  
  
"Yeah, but I don't think Dumbledore will let you leave school on the weekends to work for the Ministry, you better be careful with your earnings if you want to get her a nice Christmas gift."  
  
Chagrined, Ron looked down at the table and then back up at Harry.  
  
"I can afford it, I still have some money left."  
  
Hermione came down the stairs with her new bag in hand, head held high. Ron took her arm, and the three students headed down the street to the café, where they found a table next to the street. They ordered muggle style frozen coffee drinks, which were a fad among the younger and more adventurous witches and wizards. Ron pulled out a pack of wizarding playing cards, which were enchanted to shuffle themselves. He had just finished dealing them all a hand of cards when Harry nudged him in the ribs and pointed across the street.  
  
"Psst, Ron. Don't look like you're looking, but here comes your favorite teacher."  
  
Professor Snape was walking up the street, from the direction of the train station.  
  
"Bloody Hell! I know he's not coming over to harass us. School hasn't even started yet!"  
  
Hermione leaned in towards the boys.  
  
"Erm. I don't think he even saw us."  
  
They watched surreptitiously over the top of their cards. Snape stopped at the door to the tailor shop. Ron's eyes got big and he remembered who worked at Treadle's.  
  
"Oh, right! I totally forgot. That's the woman he fancies. You know, the one from the hospital wing? I saw her today; she works in the tailor shop. She's well now."  
  
Harry smirked and nudged Ron in the ribs again. "How well can she be if she's still seeing that slimy git?"  
  
The two boys snickered as Hermione rolled her eyes at them.  
  
"Honestly, you two. I think it's rather touching that he has a lady friend."  
  
The two boys rolled their eyes at her and made gagging noises. She huffed and they all three pretended to be sorting their hands of cards as they watched the professor. He smoothed his hair down and reached for the doorknob and walked inside the shop. Mira came out from the back room and smiled at him. She walked to the door and he grabbed her by the arm, pulled her close, and kissed her.  
  
"Ewww, gross!" Exclaimed Ron.  
  
Harry just raised his eyebrows and curled his top lip up slightly. Hermione got a slightly puckered look on her face. They stole another glance across the street. Mira pulled away to lock the door, and flipped the sign in the window to "Closed". Snape lunged for her and she dodged out of his way laughing. He pulled his wand out and cast a charm on her, multicolored sparks rained down on her head. He grabbed her by the waist with one arm and hoisted her effortlessly over his shoulder, as she playfully pounded on his back with her fists and kicked her feet.  
  
"That must have been a kind of levitating or lightening charm. He shouldn't have been able to pick her up that easily."  
  
The boys were oblivious to Hermione's commentary on the charm, they were blatantly staring with their jaws dropped.  
  
Snape planted a hand firmly on Mira's backside and gave it a squeeze. He turned and headed for the staircase in the back of the store with her bouncing along across his shoulder.  
  
"I don't believe it! He actually grabbed her bum! Bloody Hell!"  
  
"Ron! Hush! We shouldn't be spying on them like this."  
  
They tried to keep their mind on their cards, but movement in the room upstairs caught their attention. Mira stepped up to the window and reached for the shade. Snape reached around her waist from behind, and tried to pull her back away from the window. Mira slapped his hand away, twisted out of his grip, and yanked the shade down. The lamp in the room cast a perfect silhouette of them through the fabric of the shade. The professor reached up and pulled her head back with a handful of her hair and kissed her on the throat.  
  
"Sweet Merlin, he really is a vampire!"  
  
Hermione shot Ron a dirty look and her eyes darted back to the window. There was a flurry of activity; the shapes behind the shade were blurred. They had stepped back from the window.  
  
"Look you two, we really shouldn't be watching this, it's private."  
  
"Shhh Hermione! It's like a bloody accident, you can't help but look."  
  
Mira came back into focus. Her clothes were gone and a perfect silhouette of her figure was briefly cast against the window shade as she reached up to dim the lamp on the wall.  
  
Hermione blushed scarlet and looked down at her newly blossoming bosom. She excused herself from the table. "I think I've seen enough, I'm going back to the inn and up to bed."  
  
"Suit yourself Hermione, we're gonna stay and play cards."  
  
Ron and Harry looked around to make sure nobody was listening to them. Ron leaned in towards Harry.  
  
"Harry, did you see the pair of knockers on her?"  
  
"Ron! That's a crude thing to say. She seems like a very nice lady."  
  
"Oh come off it Harry, you saw her."  
  
"Yeah, I saw her. What I want to know is how a greasy bastard like Snape gets a woman like that?"  
  
"Probably slipped some kind of potion into her drink or cast a charm on her."  
  
"I don't know. Dumbledore seems to have a high opinion of him, taking him in and making him head of Slytherin House and all. Maybe he's not completely awful outside of school?"  
  
"Well, dad told me that slimy bastard actually helped save his life during the battle, and he helped blow Malfoy's dad away. I still don't trust him though. And I don't like him. Not one bit."  
  
"Well, obviously she likes him quite a bit. And you know there were those two Ravenclaw girls who got in trouble passing notes about him in Arithomancy class. They were actually getting into trouble on purpose just to get to serve detention with him."  
  
"Yuck! Why would any girl in her right mind try and get detention with him, I mean the tasks he assigns are just foul!"  
  
"I don't know."  
  
"They're mental. They're all totally mental."  
  
Harry laughed and they resumed their card playing until it was quite late and the waitress started cleaning the tables and levitating the chairs up and onto the tabletops. While they were putting the cards back into the pack to leave, they saw movement across the street. Snape exited the front door of the shop, turned and performed a locking spell on the door. He pocketed his wand, straightened the collar of his robe, ran his fingers through his hair, and set off towards the train station with a swagger in his step and a very self-satisfied smirk on his face.  
  
"Bloody fucking hell Harry! I've seen enough, let's get outta here!"  
  
Harry nearly tripped over the leg of the table getting up from the chair. The boys headed back to the inn, and didn't say a word to each other until they got back to the room they were sharing, where they decided to just pretend they never saw what they saw across the street from the café.  
  
The next day, Hermione was very cool towards Ron and Harry at breakfast, and spent the day in her room checking that she had everything she needed for the school term. When it was time to leave for the carriages that would take them to the school grounds, she waved down Ginny, who had arrived by train, and shared a carriage with her.  
  
By the time of the start of term feast, they were back on talking terms again, but Hermione wouldn't even look at the head table during supper. Ron and Harry sneaked a couple of glances and then whispered some bawdy comments to each other before Hermione shushed them.  
  
Headmaster Dumbledore gave the traditional start of term speech, and then talked about those who were not coming back, and how the returning students should keep them and their families in mind. Harry noticed and pointed out to Ron and Hermione that the Slytherin table was nearly half empty. Noticeably missing was their nemesis, Draco Malfoy.  
  
"Wonder what happened to Malfoy? Have you heard anything Harry?"  
  
"No Ron, nothing. I remember Sirius telling me his father was killed in the battle, as a Death Eater. I guess Draco's too ashamed to show his face in Hogwarts now."  
  
"Percy said he saw Mrs. Malfoy around Diagon Alley not too long ago, but Draco wasn't with her."  
  
"Hmmm, I don't know then. Maybe his mum sent him off to Durmstrang? Or what's left of it since Karkaroff took off."  
  
Ron shrugged and resumed eating his dinner. After a few minutes the topic was completely forgotten and they were caught up in start of term excitement. 


	35. A Choice Made, Lives Changed

Author's Notes: There's a hitch in the plans to reincarnate the Dark Lord, and one of the "trio" makes a poorly thought out choice which will lead to ramifications that they could never imagine and they become an unwitting pawn for the agents of the new dark uprising. This is where the story turns and goes dark again. And it's gonna get pretty dark.  
  
Nothing violent or disturbing in this chapter, it just sets up the next major plot-twist.  
  
Disclaimers: Nothing recognizable from the books or movies belongs to me.  
  
Chapter 35: A Choice Made, Lives Changed  
  
The school term started smoothly except for the fact that the "Gryffindor Trio" was split up during several of their classes. Hermione had gone on into an advanced curriculum track; Harry and Ron were in general studies. The only two classes they now all shared were Advanced Potion Brewing and Introduction to Wandless Magic.  
  
Classes were very subdued and low key without Malfoy to torment them. Malfoy's two toadies, Crabbe and Goyle, had returned to Hogwarts for the new term. Neither of their fathers were captured as Death Eaters or slain on the battlefield. But without their leader, their attempts at bullying were halfhearted at best.  
  
The only dark spot in their schedule was the twice-weekly hour in the Potions lab with Professor Snape. If anything, he was even more demanding of the students in regards to behavior and performance in class. On the way out of the first Potions class of the term, Ron pulled Harry aside, leaned over and whispered in Harry's ear: "Maybe the greasy bastard should get round to Hogsmeade more often, it just might mellow him out a bit." Harry suppressed a laugh, and whacked Ron on the back with his schoolbooks. Ron slipped his arm around Hermione's waist, and the three of them headed up the stairs to the great hall.  
  
By this time, Lucius Malfoy had recovered to the point where he could move around his manor house, using his silver topped wand-cane for support. Narcissa had sent her housemaid with the wand-cane to Knockturn Alley to have it repaired and ready for Lucius when he was able to make use of it again. A staff of household servants now replaced their freed house-elf, Dobby. Narcissa insisted upon only pureblood witches and wizards to serve in her home. A pretty young witch, Cassiopea or simply Cassie, who had been raised in an orphanage, was employed as Narcissa's personal housemaid. The Malfoys also employed an older married couple as cook and groundskeeper, and a gentlemen's valet for Lucius. All four servants were bound to the family and home with an illegal binding spell, which was tantamount to psychological enslavement. The spell made them completely loyal to the Malfoys and very easily controllable. In Narcissa's twisted mind, she believed to be doing them a favor, by taking them when they were down on their luck and allowing them to work and live in such a fine home. Lucius had enjoyed tormenting the pretty young housemaid before he was wounded in battle. Now, she scurried away quickly whenever she heard him thumping through the house with his cane.  
  
The time came for Narcissa and Lucius to start the process, which would eventually lead to the return of the Dark Lord. However, Narcissa found herself without child after each attempt by Lucius to impregnate her. The healing wizard was brought in from Knockturn Alley, and a powerful fertility potion was prescribed. Even with magical intervention, no baby was conceived. The wizard was sent for again, and this time he performed a thorough examination on both of the Malfoys. It was determined that Lucius's wounds were to such a degree that he would never be able to father a child again, not even with the strongest fertility potions or charms.  
  
After the healer had left, Lucius had flown into a rage, overturning furniture, smashing crystal and viciously slapping Narcissa's housemaid for daring to look at him with pity. He drank himself into a stupor and stumbled off to bed, slamming the door to his private bedchamber behind him. In fitful drunken sleep, Lucius was visited yet again by Voldemort, who suggested a most devious solution to this obstacle. The next day, Lucius summoned Narcissa to his study, and ordered the servants out of the house for an hour so that their plans would not be overheard.  
  
Lucius told his wife that as he was no longer able to give her a child, she would have to be impregnated by a donor. At first she was horrified with the idea and fled the study in tears, refusing to speak to her husband. However, that night she was visited again in her dreams by Voldemort's spirit, which convinced her that this was the only way. He assured her that she would be most gratefully rewarded for her loyalty when it was all said and done. She approached her husband hesitantly the next morning, and agreed to the plan, if she could personally choose the donor. Lucius was not pleased with her ultimatum, but without much of a choice, he reluctantly agreed and angrily limped off to his study to begin his research.  
  
Back at Hogwarts, the fall term was progressing rapidly. Following the first month of classes, all upper year students were given permission to leave the castle and spend Saturdays in Hogsmeade. After the first few visits, Ron realized that he only had a handful of pocket change left and would not be able to buy Hermione a fancy Christmas gift. He went to Dumbledore, and asked permission to work for the ministry as an errand boy on weekends. His request refused, Ron shuffled back down to the Gryffindor common rooms dejected and worried about how to come up with a decent sum of money in a little over a month. He earned a few galleons and some change by selling off some of his Chudley Cannons Quidditch memorabilia to fellow students. But it was just a drop in the bucket towards what he needed to come up with. He spent the next couple of weeks in a very foul mood, lamenting his poverty and inability to work during the school term.  
  
Mid-term exam time came, and the students faced a very challenging Potions exam. Instead of the usual written question and answer exams they were used to, Professor Snape had devised a practical hands-on examination for the upper level students. They arrived in class to find a blank sheet of parchment and four very tiny vials of colored liquids sitting at each of their places at the worktables. The students took their seats and looked at the materials on the tables with confusion.  
  
When it was time for the exam to begin, the professor entered from the laboratory behind the classroom. He stood in front of his desk and addressed the students.  
  
"Now. Before you, you will find a blank sheet of parchment, which has been charmed to burst into flames at the slightest suspicion of cheating. You will only get one piece of parchment. Cheat and your midterm grade goes up in flames. You will also find four small unmarked vials containing samples of various potions we have worked with so far this term. You will have exactly two hours to use your senses to determine which potions are contained in the vials. Once you have done so, you will write a paragraph describing the potion, its ingredients, how it's brewed, and what its uses are. If you finish your exam before the two hours are up, you may leave your parchments and empty potion vials on my desk and be dismissed. Now, have I made myself clear as to what will be expected of you? Are there any questions?"  
  
Neville Longbottom meekly raised his hand.  
  
"Longbottom! What did you not understand about my instructions?"  
  
"Er, professor, what exactly do you mean by using our senses to identify the potions?"  
  
Professor Snape gave an exaggerated sigh. He leaned back against his desk and glared at the class.  
  
"What I mean is, that you have just enough of each potion to smell it, taste it, and look at the color and viscosity. You need to know how to identify potions without necessarily looking at a label."  
  
Crabbe raised his hand, brows furrowed.  
  
"Yes Mister Crabbe?"  
  
"None of these potions are poisonous are they?"  
  
"Not in the amounts given to you Mister Crabbe. Use some common sense! Believe me, no matter how tempting the thought might be, Dumbledore would never allow me to poison you as part of a lesson."  
  
The professor sat down on the chair behind his desk and reached for a large hourglass.  
  
"Now that you all are clear as to what this exam entails, I have a couple of announcements to make. I will be leaving for a conference with Dumbledore on Monday, and will be gone all week. Professor McGonagall will be taking over my classes during that time. I have left a lesson plan for her, and you will be tested on that material after I return."  
  
He flipped the large hourglass over and sparkling sand started flowing through to the bottom.  
  
"You have two hours, start your exam."  
  
The class erupted into a flurry of activity. Students warily unstoppered the tiny vials and held them at arm's length, taking tentative sniffs of the contents. Hermione dove right in, sniffing, tasting, and feeling droplets of the liquids between her fingers. Her quill practically flew across her parchment. She finished the exam in less than an hour.  
  
She gathered her book satchel and got up to turn in her parchment. As she approached the desk, Ron leaned in surreptitiously towards Harry and whispered behind his hand: "Pssst. Harry? Help me keep an eye on Snape, he might just reach out and grab her bum. We both saw how he grabbed his woman's bum that night we were at the café."  
  
Caught off guard by the comment, Harry snorted out loud and started coughing loudly, trying to hold in his laughter. Ron jumped up and started whacking him on his back.  
  
"Mister Weasley! What on Earth is the matter with you?"  
  
"Uh. Er..Just helping Harry, professor. He was coughing!"  
  
"I am quite sure Mister Potter is capable of coughing without any assistance from you! Mister Potter, do you need to be excused to the hospital wing?"  
  
Harry cleared his throat and in a cracked voice managed to squeak out a reply: "No professor, just got a lungful of potion fumes. Sorry about that."  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes, smacked her parchment down on Snape's desk and stomped out of the room. Ron had returned to his seat and sat with his arms crossed over his chest, fuming.  
  
"Is there another problem Mister Weasley? You have one hour left to complete your exam and I see very little writing on your parchment."  
  
Ron scraped his chair loudly on the stone floor, pulling up closer to the worktable and hunched over the parchment, cheeks burning and a scowl on his face.  
  
He was writing furiously as the last grains of sand started to drain out of the hourglass. Once the last grain dropped, the parchments flew off of the worktables and into a neat pile on the corner of the professor's desk, to the sound of frustrated groans from the remaining students. The handful of students who had been writing at the end of the exam period deposited the vials in a little box on the professor's desk, trudged out of the potions classroom, and headed towards the stairs.  
  
Harry was waiting for Ron at the top of the staircase. Ron shuffled up the stairs and as soon as they were out of earshot, he lit into a scathing rambling swearing rant about the Potions Master.  
  
"I tell you Harry, that fucking greasy bastard enjoys making our lives misery! I wish the Ministry had tossed him to the dementors when they had the chance, he'd be right at home with that lot. The bloody prick!"  
  
Harry patted Ron on the shoulder.  
  
"Cheer up Ron, you heard what he said, he's not gonna be here all next week. Potions with McGonagall's gonna be a snap."  
  
"Thank goodness for small miracles."  
  
The boys headed back to the Gryffindor common room, relieved to be done with Potions for the week.  
  
Saturday morning came and Ron found himself with nobody to hang out with. Harry was practicing Quidditch moves with the new Gryffindor chaser, and Hermione was working on an extra-credit project for her Advanced Muggle Culture class. Begrudgingly, Ron pocketed his few remaining coins and headed to Hogsmeade by himself.  
  
The day started off slowly for Mira in the tailor shop. She needed to send an owl to her cousin, but the shop owl, Swiftfeather, was off making a run to the elf-workshop with sample fabric swatches and measurement sheets. Mira locked the shop and headed to the village owl postal center. She paid the owl rental fee, and the message was soon on the way to its destination.  
  
On the way back to the shop, a pretty young woman and an older man accidentally bumped into her as they came around a corner, knocking her to the ground. Mira dropped her bag, spilling the contents into the street. With profound apologies, the man helped her to her feet, dusted her robes off and made sure she was okay while the young woman picked her things up for her. The man winked at the woman and turned Mira away from her to dust off the back of her robe. Mira never saw the woman swipe some of the things that spilled out of the bag. The woman handed Mira her bag, minus a few items, and begged forgiveness. Flustered, Mira said no harm done, and headed back on her way to the tailor shop. She didn't notice anything missing from her purse until later that evening, and then she shrugged it off, the items were of no real importance or significant value.  
  
Later in the afternoon, Ron had taken a table in the back of the café to rest and try and come up with another plan to earn some Christmas money. He had spent most of his time in Hogsmeade looking for day work, anything to raise a few Galleons to go towards a present for Hermione. He managed to scrape together four Galleons by helping the owner of Honeydukes move empty candy barrels into the basement and levitate them in a stack against the wall.  
  
He decided he could part with a few coins, and ordered a cup of cocoa at the café. He was browsing the Daily Prophet classified ads when a hooded figure sat down at the seat across from him.  
  
"Beg pardon young sir, but is this seat taken?"  
  
Ron looked up, a perturbed look on his face and shrugged his shoulders.  
  
"No, I was just reading the classified ads."  
  
The hooded woman leaned forward, pale white hands with long red nails twining together.  
  
"Aren't you a student at the school? You look much too young to be seeking employment."  
  
Ron folded the paper and sighed.  
  
"Well, yeah, I am. But I was just looking for a weekend day job or something, I need to raise some money before Christmas."  
  
"I see. Well, don't your studies take up all your free time? Or are your marks so good that you have plenty of time to spare?"  
  
"Oh, my marks are fine. Well.. In all my classes but Potions. I'm not doing very well in that one. But not for lack of trying, it's just that the professor really has it in for me and won't give me a break at all."  
  
"Oh my, I can certainly understand. So, there is no love lost between you and this Potions professor?"  
  
Ron took a drink of his cocoa and snorted.  
  
"None whatsoever. I've been trying to figure out a way to get back at him for being so unfair to me and my friends since day one."  
  
"I see, well then. I think we may be able to help each other out. How would you like to earn some Christmas money and get one over on your teacher, hmmm?"  
  
Ron looked warily at the hooded figure.  
  
"Just what did you have in mind? I mean, I don't need to cause any more trouble for myself with him. What do you want me to do?"  
  
"Well, it's a very special and secret job. I am in need of some exotic and hard to find potions ingredients, carefully controlled by the Ministry. I could wait for a permit to be processed and an order to be placed, but you know how the Ministry drags its heels and how slow owl post can be at times. If I give you a list of things I need, just small amounts of certain items, could you get into your teacher's personal stores and acquire them for me?"  
  
Ron sat back in his chair with a confused look on his face, and the leaned forward.  
  
"What? You mean steal potions ingredients from Snape's personal stores? I don't know. I could get expelled for that!"  
  
"Well, I would make it worth your while. You would be paid very well. How does fifty Galleons sound?"  
  
Ron's eyes got big, and he looked around to make sure he was not being eavesdropped on.  
  
"Fifty Galleons! That's a lot of money! And all I have to do is sneak into Snape's office and swipe some potions ingredients?"  
  
"Yes, that's all you need do, and small amounts, they will never be missed. But you may tell no one. Not even your best friends. This must be a secret."  
  
"You've got yourself a deal! He's gonna be gone all next week, it should be a snap. Wait, how do I get them to you?"  
  
"You will meet me in the alley next to the Three Broomsticks Inn at six in the evening next Saturday. Bring the potions ingredients, and I will have your sack of coins waiting for you."  
  
"Wait a minute. How do I know that they won't be Leprechaun coins?"  
  
The woman reached into her robe and pulled out a small sack of coins and handed them to Ron.  
  
"Here are ten Galleons. You will find that they are most certainly the real thing. Deliver the potions ingredients to me, and you will receive the rest."  
  
The woman reached back into her robes and pulled out a tiny piece of parchment, listing the items she needed.  
  
"I must be going now, but remember. Bring me these items next weekend, and you shall have your gold."  
  
Ron looked at the list of ingredients and then back up to ask the mystery woman a question but she was gone.  
  
He tucked the parchment into his pocket, along with the sack of ten Galleons and sipped his cocoa, plotting how he would get into Snape's laboratory to get the goods. 


	36. Money is the Root of all Evil

Author's Notes: I have wanted to send Ron down the wrong path for quite some time. I think he's got the potential to be very jealous of people who have what he doesn't have: Popularity, wealth, athletic skill, academic skill, etc.Remember in Goblet of Fire, when he was making such a big deal about money, especially the leprechaun gold and gifts? And his reaction to Hermione and Krum at the Yule Ball? I figured he would be the perfect catalyst to set the next major plot twist into motion.  
  
Special note to my friend, Miss E.: No, not quite the idea you gave me regarding the whole Lucius plot twist. But I think this is ever so much more mind-fucky in a subtle way. If you can't guess, I'm not telling, you'll have to wait like everybody else.  
  
Disclaimers: None of the characters or concepts recognized from the books or movies belongs to me.  
  
Chapter 36: Money is the Root of all Evil  
  
Later that evening, Narcissa Malfoy returned home to inform her husband of the good news. The Weasley boy had taken the bait, and he would be acquiring the controlled potions ingredients for her.  
  
Lucius invited his wife into his study, where he had been working at his ornate mahogany desk. On a large white sheet of parchment sat an inexpensive muggle style hairbrush with black elastic bands wrapped around the handle, and a raggedy quill. Next to those two items was a pair of tweezers and two little piles of hair. A larger pile of curly dark red hairs and a smaller pile of straight black hairs.  
  
"Narcissa my love, I do believe your lovely little housemaid has more than earned her keep this month."  
  
Narcissa leaned in and gingerly picked up the little pile of black hairs and examined them closely under the lantern and set them back on the parchment.  
  
"Lucius. You don't think?"  
  
Malfoy looked up with a malicious grin on his face.  
  
"Whose else could they be?"  
  
"Oh, Lucius. Don't tell me you're seriously considering what I think you're considering."  
  
"Why not? What better way to blow their weak little minds and let them know that they're not safe anywhere, anytime?"  
  
"Lucius, I don't know. I mean, what we discussed this morning was one thing, but this.This is entirely different!"  
  
Lucius leaned forward across the desk and gripped her tightly around the forearm.  
  
"Listen woman. I have already indulged you once concerning this matter. It will play out exactly as I say it will. Now, I suggest you send an owl to your little thief and tell him to get one of the bastard's quills while he's at it."  
  
Narcissa made a little whimpering noise and wrenched her arm free. She turned and fled the study, rubbing her arm, tears welling up in her eyes. She stormed up the stairs to her private bedchamber, and slapped Cassie viciously across the face for laying the wrong nightgown out for her. After the maid replaced the nightgown with the proper one for Saturdays, she fled the room to tend to her face. Narcissa sat at her fancy little writing desk, and pulled a roll of plain parchment from the bottom drawer. She wrote a simple message: "Get one of his personal quills while you're at it for an extra ten Galleons." She wrote the boy's name on the outside of the parchment and rang for the butler to send it off in the morning to Hogwarts School.  
  
Sunday morning after breakfast, the trio were lingering in the great hall, playing a game of cards when a handful of owls came flitting in, depositing mail and parcels to the students. An unfamiliar owl swooped down and dropped a small parchment in front of Ron. He looked at it strangely, didn't recognize the writing and opened it. He bit his lip and folded it up and quickly stashed it in his robe.  
  
Hermione looked over at him. "Who's sending you mail on a Sunday, Ron?"  
  
"Er. Um. It's nothing. Just a note from Mr. Boone at the Ministry, thanking me for working as an errand boy. That I performed an invaluable service during a rough time and so on."  
  
Harry looked at Ron with a confused look. "Ron, all you did was run messages back and forth between Hogsmeade and Diagon Alley after the fighting was over."  
  
Ron looked at Harry dejectedly. "Yeah, but it was a job. It paid well, and I earned tips."  
  
Harry shrugged his shoulders and Hermione suggested a hand of exploding snap to lighten the mood. The owl message forgotten, the friends spent a leisurely Sunday on the school grounds.  
  
Potions class the following week was a breeze. Ron noticed that McGonagall didn't thoroughly secure the supply cabinets, even the small one in the back laboratory from which she distributed the more dangerous ingredients. She was simply too trusting. It would be a piece of cake to sneak in after hours and swipe the items he needed.  
  
Thursday night, he decided to make his move. After a rough Quidditch practice, Harry was sound asleep and never noticed Ron charm his school trunk open to borrow Harry's invisibility cloak. Ron put the cloak on and sneaked down to the dungeons, where he found the door to the Potions classroom unlocked. With a simple spell he picked up from Hermione, he managed to get into the laboratory and the smaller supply cabinet located behind the professor's workbench. He transferred small amounts of several ingredients into labeled vials he had prepared the night before. He bundled up the vials in a cloth, shut and re-locked the cabinet and headed for the door. On his way through the classroom, he spotted the tip of a feather quill poking out from a crack in a drawer of the professor's desk. He gently tugged it through the crack, and pocketed it as well. He sneaked out of the Potions classroom, and back up to the Gryffindor dormitories, where he replaced Harry's cloak and hid the bundle of potion ingredients and quill in the bottom of his own trunk. He went to bed with a smug smile on his face, thinking of how clever he was.  
  
"Not bad, not bad at all. Sixty gold Galleons for a mere errand."  
  
Saturday, the trio all made the trip to Hogsmeade. It was getting close to the holiday season, some of the shops already had gift displays up in the windows. Ron had the bundle of potion vials and quill stuffed into an inner pocket of his over-robe. They sampled the holiday goodies at Honeydukes and went down the street to buy some magical greeting cards at the general store. On their way back to the school, Ron made the excuse that he had to tie his shoe, and told Hermione and Harry to go on without him. He peered down the alley next to the inn and saw a dark figure standing near the back. A pale white hand beckoned him forward, and he tentatively stepped out of the light.  
  
"Did you get it all?"  
  
"Yeah, everything on the list, and the quill."  
  
Ron reached into his robes and pulled out the bundle and handed it to the hooded woman. She unwrapped it and checked the vials to make sure everything was as requested.  
  
"Excellent! You have done very well. Now, here is the rest of your pay, fifty Galleons. Remember, you must tell no one about this little transaction, do you understand me?"  
  
"Yeah, well right. A pleasure doing business with you! Hope whatever you're brewing up comes out fine."  
  
Ron backed out of the alley, pocketing the coins and hurried back to the school. After everybody was in bed, he put the coins with the rest of his little money stash, and counted them over and over again.  
  
"Sixty-six gold Galleons!"  
  
He secured the coins in a pouch and hid them in the bottom corner of his school trunk and dozed off, pleased that he would be able to buy Hermione an impressive gift.  
  
Sunday afternoon, Dumbledore and Professor Snape returned to the school from the conference they had attended abroad. Dumbledore had decided to start a formal organization of wizarding educators after the fiasco at the Tri-Wizard Tournament. Every six months, administrators and professors from various wizarding schools would come together and share knowledge and ideas. This particular event focused on potions.  
  
Snape returned to his laboratory to put the samples of exotic ingredients acquired from the other Potion Masters away in his personal stores. He immediately noticed that the cabinet had been tampered with. Bottles were out of order, and some had noticeable amounts missing from them, ingredients not needed for the list of potions he had left for McGonagall to teach his students.  
  
"I don't bloody fucking believe this!"  
  
He sorted through the bottles and jars, making notes of what exactly was missing, and then swept out of the dungeons and up to Dumbledore's chambers. The correct password given, he slammed the door open and stormed into the headmaster's office. Dumbledore and McGonagall were sitting in front of the fire, sharing a pot of tea. Snape glowered above them, the hand holding the list of missing items shaking.  
  
McGonagall turned in her chair and looked at him with a disapproving glare.  
  
"What on Earth is the matter with you, storming in here and disrupting the headmaster's tea time!"  
  
Snape thrust the parchment at her. She took it from his hand, put her glasses on, and read with pursed lips.  
  
"This is the matter Minerva. The items on that list have mysteriously gone missing from my personal potions stores. I noticed right away that the cabinet had been tampered with and the jars re-arranged. As you were in charge of my classes and my laboratory this past week, I thought that you might have a clue as to how and when they were taken."  
  
McGonagall read and re-read the list of items missing from the potions supply cabinet, and handed it to Headmaster Dumbledore. The headmaster took the parchment and read the list, a questioning look on his face.  
  
"What exactly are these ingredients used for?"  
  
"They have many uses, headmaster. But all are more advanced than anything I teach here at the school."  
  
"Is it possible that you used them yourself and forgot to replenish the supply?  
  
"No, those items are very rare, and I would remember having needed any of them."  
  
"Well then. I take it that they are controlled substances, are they not?"  
  
"Controlled and dangerous, headmaster. I cannot think of any legitimate use that a student would need them for."  
  
"Do they have a resale value, on the black market?"  
  
"I never thought of that, but I would assume that they would be worth a pretty penny. They are not available to the general public, and even to licensed users, they are hard to come by. The actual price paid for them from a supplier is not tremendous, but they would be priceless to somebody who was unable to procure them through legitimate channels."  
  
McGonagall sat forward in her chair, nostrils flaring, and quite agitated.  
  
"Are you suggesting that one of our students stole those ingredients to sell on the black market for a profit? Why, that's absurd!"  
  
Dumbledore reached over and patted her on the hand.  
  
"There, there Minerva. I am merely exploring the possibilities."  
  
Dumbledore looked up at Snape, who was standing between them, arms crossed over his chest.  
  
"And do you have any theories as to who might have taken them and why?"  
  
"I have no idea. Maybe a student is getting in over their head, dabbling with advanced potions that they have no business messing about with? Maybe they were stolen for the black market after all. Maybe it was just a prank to get one over on me? All I know is that if the thief doesn't know what they're doing; those ingredients can be very dangerous. It's a pity the cabinet wasn't properly secured after its last use. Had the proper wards been cast over it, as I left instructions for, this never would have happened."  
  
Snape turned to McGonagall and the two squared off in a stare-down. He shot dagger-eyes in her direction while she countered with a pursed look, as if she smelled something foul. Dumbledore, sensing the potential for a nasty argument to erupt at any moment, rose and swiftly escorted the Potions Master to the door.  
  
"Thank you for bringing this to my attention, Severus. I will make a point to advise Mr. Filch to be on the lookout for students out of bed after curfew. In the meanwhile, I suggest you try and not let it worry you too much. I am sure it was nothing more than a prank. If you wish, you may compile a list of effects from potions made from these items, and symptoms from misuse of the ingredients and send it over to Madame Pomfrey so that she can keep an eye out for signs of accidental exposure."  
  
After politely being shown the door, Snape stalked back down the corridors and staircases to his laboratory. He pulled a large reference book off of a shelf, and spent the rest of the afternoon compiling a list of potions that used the missing ingredients. None of them were anything remotely within the skill level of Hogwarts students. To attempt any of them was both foolish and dangerous. To his further dismay, a few items on the list were potent poisons. He felt the same nagging tightness in the pit of his stomach, something was not right. This was not a mere prank, a student out to get one over on the old Potions Master. These ingredients were carefully chosen. Chosen by or for somebody who most certainly did not have the purest of intentions.  
  
The list for Pomfrey compiled, he noticed the time, and went to his chambers to change for dinner. He spied a stack of parchment rolls on the table in his sitting room. The house-elves had been collecting and delivering his owl post in his absence. After he cleaned himself up and dressed for dinner, he sat and briefly sorted through the letters. He noticed one written in familiar handwriting and tied with scrap of silver ribbon. He pocketed it, and deposited the rest into a box to be dealt with later.  
  
He arrived in the great hall quite early, there were only a handful of students at their house tables, and the only other occupants of the head table were Professor Sprout and Madame Hooch. He took his seat, removed the parchment from his pocket and began to read.  
  
"Hope your conference went well and you made it back to Hogwarts safely. I missed you this weekend. I've started counting the days mid-week in anticipation of your Saturday evening visits. Susan and Albert came to check up on the store and make sure I had the holiday preparations under control. Purely business, they didn't even offer to take me to dinner. Albert still blames me for getting Susan dragged into that mess with the Death Eaters. Well, at least I'll get to see Tricia over the holidays. I've got permission to take her into muggle London for a shopping trip. Speaking of the holidays, next Saturday is the village winter fest. Now, I know you don't go in for special events and social occasions very much, but maybe we can escape the crowds and go to the tavern for a drink. I'll need it after dealing with the holiday shopping crowds. Albert wants me to stay open until at least eight o' clock, as the festival runs until ten. Send me an owl sometime this week and let me know if you can make it. Yours, as always, Mira."  
  
The professor smiled briefly and rolled the parchment back up and stashed it in his pocket. The great hall was starting to fill up with both students and faculty. Before the meal, Dumbledore made the announcement about the winter festival in Hogsmeade. All students with permission from their families would be allowed to attend. When the lower-level students realized that they would be allowed to go as well, a spontaneous cheer erupted throughout the hall. 


	37. Winter Festival

Author's Notes: Ron has started down a very dark path; oblivious to the events he has set in motion. The students get a little holiday cheer, and Mira and Snape are unwittingly outed as an "item".  
  
Thanks for all the reviews and suggestions. So far, I am a chapter ahead of myself with the upcoming plot in an outline. So, there shouldn't be any skipped weekly updates, at least one chapter per week, hopefully two.  
  
Disclaimer: None of the characters, themes, places, etc. recognized from the books or movies belongs to me.  
  
Chapter 37: Winter Festival  
  
The week preceding the winter festival in Hogsmeade blew by in a flurry of excitement. Most of the professors gave up on serious lessons mid-week. All but Professor Snape, his class sessions were as demanding as always. The sixth-year students were busy learning to make a universal poison antidote that would lessen or reverse the effects of many common poisons. To the students' dismay, Headmaster Dumbledore actually gave Professor Snape permission to have the students test their potions on themselves, after being administered a weak poison that would cause nausea and lightheadedness. Those who didn't succeed with their potion might not be well enough to attend the festival Saturday. So, all of the sixth-years, especially Neville Longbottom, were sweating the results of their potions experiment.  
  
All passed the lesson, more or less. Neville complained of being a little bit queasy, but nobody could be sure if it was because his antidote was not up to par, or because he was so stressed out over the whole ordeal. Potions over for the week, Friday was pretty much a "blow-off" day at Hogwarts; the students were too excited to concentrate on anything but the festival.  
  
Friday evening, the mayor of Hogsmeade had arranged for decorations to go up along the main streets and in the town square. Twinkling light charms were cast in all the trees, and a giant Christmas tree in the middle of the town square was decorated with sparkling ornaments and shimmering bows. The season had been mild so far, there was no snow on the ground, and the weather would be chilly but pleasant all weekend. The bandstand was decorated with the twinkling light charm and a garland of holly and ivy, in preparation for the carolers and enchanted bell choir.  
  
Mira spent Friday evening stocking the store with smaller gift items: Shawls, pouches, hair combs, wand cases, etc. She hung evergreen garland around the window and placed a wreath on the door. Satisfied that everything was ready for the onslaught of shoppers that would besiege the village in the morning, she went upstairs to bed.  
  
Before putting out the lamp, she re-read the message that had arrived via owl early in the week. The professor's conference had gone well, but there was a problem with some items going missing from his lab. He would be more than happy to join her for a drink Saturday evening, but under no circumstances was he interested in straying near the town square. He would meet her at the shop a quarter past eight. And yes, he has missed their Saturday night together too.  
  
She smiled and rolled the parchment back up and tucked it away in her bedside table. She fluffed her pillow, extinguished the lamp, and tucked the blankets under her chin. Excited, but not about the festival. She could give a damn about the silly festival. She would be counting the hours until eight o' clock. She chuckled to herself before drifting off to sleep. "You've got it bad, girl. You've really got it Bad.."  
  
Morning came quickly, and the village was crowded with locals and day- trippers who had arrived for shopping and the festival. Shortly after noon, the students from Hogwarts started to arrive in town. Business was brisk, many witches and wizards came through the store, purchasing trinkets for their loved ones and ordering special robes for Yule balls. Mira could have used Tricia's help. She reminded herself to ask Albert permission to hire temporary help for such future occasions.  
  
The Gryffindor Trio arrived in Hogsmeade, and went immediately to Honeyduke's sweet shop, where they found such holiday delicacies as candy canes with red ribbons of moving color spiraling up their length, like barber poles. Pockets full of candy, they spent the afternoon and early evening visiting with classmates and listening to the carolers and bell choir in the town square. Ron excused himself, under the guise of picking up a new quill at the general store, and sneaked away to Treadle's to purchase Hermione's Christmas gift.  
  
He opened the door, and a large string of sleigh bells jingled against the inside of the door. Mira was taking the last measurements of an older witch, for a Yule Ball robe. Red velvet trimmed in golden holly leaf ribbon. She called out to Ron that she'd be with him in just a second. The old witch gathered her copy of the order form and went about her way. Mira bundled the sample fabric and trim with the measurement form and set it in a box behind the counter, with the rest of the special orders. She turned to Ron, who was browsing through a basket of shawls.  
  
"Hi there, what can I do for you this afternoon?"  
  
Ron turned and blushed scarlet, remembering when he had seen Mira last. It didn't help that she was wearing a figure-hugging robe that had a low neckline edged in fur trim. He looked down at his shoes, completely flustered, and stammered to her: "Ummm. Er. I'm looking for a Christmas present for my girlfriend. Something really special."  
  
"Oh I remember you. You bought her a pretty little pouch at the start of term, didn't you?"  
  
Ron blushed even redder and nodded his head.  
  
"Well, I've got some shawls in the same color scheme. And I think there is even a matching wand-case somewhere over by the window, in the box of pouches."  
  
Ron looked around, and then back at Mira, making a concentrated effort to look at her face, not a foot lower.  
  
"Well, I remember seeing some hair combs last time that were lovely. Do you have any more?"  
  
"Sure, we've got lots of hair combs left. How much were you wanting to spend?"  
  
"No more than fifty galleons."  
  
"Well now, fifty galleons will buy a very special set of combs. She's a very lucky girl to have a boyfriend as generous as you."  
  
"I earned the money running errands."  
  
"And you're spending it on your sweetheart, instead of down at the candy shop and quidditch shop? Aren't you quite the little romantic?"  
  
Ron blushed again and thought at how much Hermione would love the combs, and how everybody would "oooh and aaah" over them. Mira brought a velvet lined display box out from behind the counter. She pulled four pairs of hair combs out and placed them on the counter. Two were silver, two bronze.  
  
"What color hair and eyes does she have?"  
  
"Brownish hair, and eyes the same, brownish."  
  
Mira moved two pairs to the front of the selection. A bronze pair with lovely champagne colored pearls, and a silver pair with honey colored amber stones.  
  
"These two are both forty galleons a pair. The next least expensive are sixty. The pearls are genuine, as are the amber stones. Personally, I favor the bronze ones for a woman with warm coloring. The bronze will pick up the golden highlights in her hair."  
  
Ron fingered the pearls, imagining how lovely the combs would look in Hermione's hair. And how envious all the other Gryffindor girls would be once they saw them.  
  
"I'll take them. Can you wrap them up extra special?"  
  
Mira placed the combs in a small silk pouch, and the pouch in a small gift box. She wrapped the box in shimmery gold paper, and tied it with a lush red velvet ribbon, catching a sprig of real holly in the bow. Ron counted out the coins and placed them on the counter in small stacks. With twenty galleons left, after the combs and his candy at Honeyduke's, he had more than enough to pick out a pretty pouch for his mother. Mira wrapped the pouch just as extravagantly as the combs and stepped out from behind the counter to walk Ron to the door.  
  
Ron pocketed the gifts and was overly conscious of her perfume, and the feel of the soft fur that edged the sleeves of her robe brushing his cheek as she reached around his shoulder to open the door for him. He turned to thank her and found himself very close. Too close for comfort. Blushing beetroot red, he stammered a thank you and darted out the door and into the lane, where he met Hermione and Harry walking towards the café. Hermione looked at him with a quizzical look.  
  
"Ron, what were you doing in Treadle's? I thought you were going to pick up a quill?"  
  
"Oh, I wanted to get mum a Christmas present, I bought her a pouch like yours. She can carry her hankie and other things in it."  
  
"Aren't you sweet Ron!"  
  
Harry rolled his eyes as Hermione took Ron's hand and kissed him on the cheek. The trio crossed the street to the café, which had little heating cauldrons under every table, and a levitating mass of twinkling lights forming a sparkling canopy overhead. They were meeting some other sixth- year students for cocoa before heading to the town square to watch the grand finale of the performances at nine.  
  
At eight o' clock, Mira locked the door to the store and flipped the sign to closed. She went to the back room, brushed her hair, powdered her nose, and dabbed on some fresh perfume. Ten minutes to spare, she killed time straightening up the sales floor, refolding the shawls and organizing the pouches in their box. The special orders could wait until morning. No need to send the owl out tonight.  
  
Ron kneed Harry under the table and motioned across the street. A dark cloaked figure was walking towards the tailor shop.  
  
"I'll give you three guesses who that might be."  
  
Hermione looked up from her cocoa and conversation with Parvati and Padma Patil.  
  
"I told you both, we shouldn't spy on people, it's not nice."  
  
Neville looked at Harry quizzically.  
  
"What's she talking about Harry? Who are you spying on?"  
  
Ron cleared his throat and smirked. He motioned for the others to lean in over the table.  
  
"Okay. See the store across the street? That's Treadle's Tailor Shop. See the man who just walked up to the door?" They surreptitiously looked across the street and then back to Ron, nodding their heads. "Right, well that's Professor Snape. He fancies the woman who works in the tailor shop, and he comes down from Hogwarts to meet her on Saturday evenings."  
  
Parvati and Padma both dropped their jaws. "No way Ron, you're pulling our legs!"  
  
"I am not, just watch."  
  
They all watched the store across the street while pretending not to be watching. A woman came to the door, unlocked it, and let the cloaked man in.  
  
Hermione sighed and shot Ron a dirty look. "Look, it's not our business. I think it's wrong to spy on people's personal lives."  
  
Parvati shushed her, and the group of students watched intently as the woman re-locked the door and turned to face the cloaked man. He reached out and stroked the fur on the neckline of her robe with the back of his hand. Blushing, she leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. She turned and headed into the back room, motioning that she would be right back.  
  
Padma turned back to Ron. "Ron Weasley, you are having a go at us. That could be anybody under that cloak."  
  
Neville piped up. "No, look. I think it really is him."  
  
The cloaked man dropped his hood and shook his hair out. He walked over to the counter, and picked up a small item off of one of the displays and looked at it more closely.  
  
Padma and Parvati looked at each other with shocked expressions on their faces. "No way! They turned back to Ron. "Ron, you're right! How long have they been seeing each other?"  
  
"For quite a while I suppose. I know that he fancied her back before the battles started."  
  
They watched, huddled over their steaming mugs, as Mira came back out wearing a cloak over her robe. The professor walked her to the door, they exited the shop, and she locked the door behind them. They pulled their hoods up, he slipped his arm around her waist, and they headed off down the street.  
  
Padma turned back to the group, eyes big. "You guys, this is the hottest piece of gossip to have hit the school in months, and you just sat on it?"  
  
Hermione bristled and sat up primly in her seat. "Honestly. I don't see what the big deal is. So, Professor Snape's got a lady-friend. And? I really feel strange gossiping about it and spying on them. It's just not right."  
  
Parvati rolled her eyes. "Oh pull the plug out of it Hermione! I, for one, am shocked. He can be such a bastard in class, what kind of woman would be at all interested in him? I mean, what on Earth could she find remotely appealing? I shudder to think!"  
  
Padma elbowed her sister in the ribs playfully. "Well you know, Mandy Brocklehurst and Lisa Turpin got in trouble for deliberately trying to score detention with him. I bet they'll really freak out when I tell them he's not even on the market anymore."  
  
Hermoine finished her drink and got up from her chair. "Look, when you lot decide to grow up and stop gossiping about teacher, you can join me at the bandstand."  
  
Padma and Parvati giggled. Ron jumped up and followed Hermione. After finishing their drinks, the other four got up to leave. Neville helped a giggling Padma into her cloak, and the foursome went to find Ron and Hermione.  
  
The Hog's Head Tavern was nearly deserted. Almost all the villagers were in the town square, watching the performances, or lingering at the shops, which were open late for holiday shopping. Mira and the professor sat at a large booth at the back of the tavern, where they would have some peace and quiet. They drank a round of hot mulled wine, the spicy steam warming their faces from the walk across the village. After a while, a small crowd of people started straggling into the tavern, the festivities were coming to an end. Mira nudged the professor on the arm.  
  
"Come on, let's head back before this place really fills up. I've had it with crowds today."  
  
Snape helped her into her cloak, and paid the barmaid for the drinks. Outside the tavern, they had to wait for a large group of people to pass before heading back towards the tailor shop. Mira felt as if she were being watched. She looked around and saw a group of students from the school staring at her and the professor. Mira recognized the redheaded boy as the one who bought the present for his girlfriend. As soon as she made eye contact with them, they looked away with embarrassed looks on their faces. The two dark haired girls pointed and whispered in each other's ears, giggling. The crowd passed, and they continued on their way back to the tailor shop for some time alone, before the professor had to return to the school. 


	38. Teacher's Pets

Author's Notes: Lots of notes, so please bear with me. You lucky readers get a THREE chapter update this week! What can I say, the plot fairies must have been very kind to me this week, because I not only got over my writer's block, but found time to really get some of the plot fleshed out.  
  
The fall term is winding down, and lots of things are happening. Mira and Snape have been outed and there are mixed reactions among the student body. The Malfoys are fully committed to their plan, but with some hesitation. Mira shows a bit more of her wicked side in the tavern.  
  
Okay, I don't have anything against teacher/student fantasies. But I didn't want to go there with this story. If anything, I see Snape having a slightly paternal relationship with his Slytherins, maybe a bit of a mentor to those students who are gifted in potion brewing. Certainly a kind of strange platonic love/hate protectiveness over Harry. But otherwise, I see him as being strictly all business when it comes to his relationships with his students.  
  
Private little note to my plot idea buddy, Miss E. You'll probably recognize a little self-insertion regarding the muggle chemistry teacher at the end of the chapter. Our chat inspired me to throw it in. 'Nuff said.  
  
Special notes to those who were so kind as to review my story if you make it all the way through the plot twists and turns to this chapter:  
  
Werecat99: I haven't quite worked out yet my writing style, but thanks for the idea of using asterisks or italics. I'm gonna play around with those suggestions and see what works. And, the story of yours that "snagged" me was the "Teacher's Pet" story. Because all 3 of my cats have been totally conspiring against me for the past week, and the story just had me rolling with laughter. I promise to re-read and review for you soon.  
  
Byrdgirl and Goldenstar555: Ron isn't the new evil, but he unwittingly plays a key part in helping it along. He may wreak some havoc, but more out of unthinking selfishness instead of evilness. Ronniekins isn't evil, just unsatisfied with his life and insecure with a distorted idea on how to become more popular and respected.  
  
The quill? You'll find out early in this chapter. On a related note, I'm writing Lucius as simply heinous. Narcissa is too, but in a more underhanded, scheming passive aggressive sort of way. Lucius is just evil gone around the bend. He's not the new threat, but a very major player in the emergence of it.  
  
Disclaimer: Nothing recognizable from the books or movies belongs to me.  
  
Chapter 38: Teacher's Pets.  
  
While the villagers of Hogsmeade, along with visitors from all over wizarding Britain enjoyed the winter festival; Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy remained cloistered away in their country home. Lucius had been keeping a close eye on the potion he was brewing in the small basement workroom. Two more weeks, and the potion would be ready to use. That part of the plan falling into place, he set about mastering the "Psuedoscriptus" spell which would allow him to dictate a message to a quill, which would write the message in its owner's handwriting. This was an integral part of the plan. The spell would have to work flawlessly in order for him to effectively lure his victims.  
  
Narcissa was having second thoughts about the plan. But it had already taken on a life of its own. She had allowed Voldemort into her mind during dreamtime, and had made a deal with him. Essentially a deal with the devil to see her husband's health fully restored. In the beginning, she was blinded by the hunger for power and prestige, which had driven her for all of her adult life. After having had some time to really think about exactly what she had committed to, she started to regret agreeing in haste to the plan. Maybe there could have been another way? The details of the plan brought buried memories back to the surface, reminding her of choices she had made in the past. Choices, which had led her to where she was today. Choices, which every once in a while, she felt a pang of regret over. She hoped that she would not live to regret agreeing to the plan, and spent a lot of time rehashing her past in her mind. The ultimatum she had given her husband seemed impulsive and foolish in retrospect. She was certainly not prepared for his reaction, and wondered why she had even opened that Pandora's box to begin with. Why had she chosen to make it so much more complicated than it needed to be? The whole thing was starting to spiral out of control, and Narcissa found herself hopelessly caught up in it, and forced to see it through to fruition.  
  
She was also very worried about her husband's mental state. To the entire wizarding world, save a few trusted friends and loyal servants, he had died in battle at Hogwarts. He spent most of his time limping up and down the stairs from his study to his basement workroom. He had a pale and wasted look about him. His appetite seemed to have just died. Well, his appetite for food and drink that was, his appetite for revenge and cruelty had intensified to the point where he became a man obsessed. The little twist he had thrown into their plan to resurrect Voldemort really bothered her. She knew that her ultimatum had triggered him to make it an act of revenge as much as an act of salvation for his master. Would he be able to hold it together long enough to see the plan through? Or would he lose it and self- destruct, taking everybody involved down with him? He was totally enmeshed in this plan. Narcissa knew that Voldemort visited him during his dreams nearly every night. She had stood outside the door of his bedchambers, listening to him talk in his sleep. Only on rare occasions, did Lucius venture outside the grounds of their country estate. His valet would deliver him in an enchanted carriage to a seedy bar on the edges of Knockturn Alley. Cloaked and hooded, Lucius would sit in the back corner of the bar, to drink and eavesdrop on conversations. Mostly speculation over whether Voldemort was truly defeated or merely in hiding again. Many dark wizards seemed to believe the latter.  
  
Narcissa had started to really feel the strain of living under the same roof as her husband. She desperately wanted her son, Draco, home with her for the holidays; to try and restore some semblance of normal family life to their household. But Lucius would not hear of it. As far as Draco was concerned, his father had died and his body never recovered. And until Voldemort had been reborn and Lucius restored to health and power, Draco could simply remain none the wiser and safely out of the country. If the plan went badly, it was best for all concerned that Draco be as far away as possible to not get caught up in the fallout.  
  
Early the next morning, it started to snow, the first real snow of the season. Students at Hogwarts awoke to a veritable winter fairyland outside their windows as the school grounds were covered in fine powdery drifts of snow. Some bounded out of bed to play in it before the Sunday brunch in the great hall. Others pulled the covers over their heads and lingered in their warm beds until the bells in the bell tower called them to the table.  
  
As the students made their way into the great hall, there was a buzz of hushed conversation. Mostly among the Ravenclaw and Gryffindor girls, as the Patil sisters spilled the goods on the Potions Master. The gossip spread like wildfire among the students, who were still giddy from their outing in Hogsmeade. The whispering and muted giggling continued until Professor Snape arrived, late to brunch. Looking slightly disheveled and sleep-deprived, he never noticed the hush descend over the room when he took his place next to Professor McGonagall. He also never noticed two Ravenclaw girls staring dagger-eyes at him until they abruptly shoved their plates away, stood up, and flounced out of the hall. Oblivious to being the center of the Hogwarts gossip-mill that morning, he drank his tea and buttered his toast, making idle conversation with the faculty members seated on either side of him.  
  
Hermione gave Ron the silent treatment the rest of the day Sunday for having started the gossiping at the café. He should have known better to tell Padma and Parvati Patil. The most notorious of the school gossips, they could throw a twisted spin into a story faster than Rita Skeeter had ever dreamed of. As gossip goes, the story had taken on a life of its own. The most recent version was that Mira was a muggle whom the professor had met on an errand for Dumbledore. He had met her in passing, fallen in love with her at first sight, and spirited her away from her muggle husband and family to live in Hogsmeade as his mistress.  
  
By Monday morning, the entire school was abuzz with various theories of exactly who the woman at the tailor shop in Hogsmeade was. Even though several students remembered her as their former classmate's aunt, it was more interesting to speculate. Professor Snape noticed that his students were acting strangely. Many were whispering in class, more than usual. And a handful of girls kept giving him nasty looks and responding to questions very curtly. Oblivious to the true reason, he figured that they were displeased with his having made the sixth years test a poison antidote on themselves the week before.  
  
Monday afternoon, Mira received three howlers in the mail from Hogwarts students. One accused her of being descended from a rather unsavory breed of non-human father and a mother of loose morals. The second scolded her that she was not good enough for such a noble man, and she should stick to her own social level and leave him for another shopkeeper. The third ominously warned her that Professor Snape was a "wicked evil man who hates his students and would poison her too for no good reason if he had the chance, so she should watch out." Mira laughed them off and busied herself sorting the real mail. "So, the girls whispering in each other's ear near the tavern must have been the school busybodies." She snickered to herself. She wondered if the professor had received nasty letters as well. But decided that with his reputation among the students of being a major hard-ass, nobody would dare directly confront him. She made a mental note to taunt him about his female "fan club" of heartbroken schoolgirls the next time she saw him.  
  
In with the tailor shop correspondence, was a package from her cousin's daughter, Tricia, who was away at the Beauxbatons School. It contained an early Christmas gift for "Auntie Belle". The note described how the girls were allowed to go to Paris for a day and, Tricia had spent the time shopping with her new school friend, Charisse. Mira went ahead and opened the box. It contained a pair of jingly ankle bracelets, made from sparkling jet beads and tiny silver bells. A tiny card tucked in with them simply said: "Bells for auntie Belle to wear when dancing." Smiling at the playfulness of the thought behind the gift, she hooked them around her ankles, where they jingled softly underneath her full skirts.  
  
The fall term at Hogwarts would be over for the Christmas holidays in a week. The students would forget all about their tidbit of juicy gossip by the time they returned for the spring term. After the initial shock of the news wore off, attention drifted some from the professor, as the students got excited about the holidays. There was only the week of finals, and a final Saturday in Hogsmeade left before the end of term feast Sunday evening. Those who were going home would leave on Monday.  
  
Ron, Harry, Hermione, Neville, Padma, and Parvati had made plans to go to Hogsmeade together for some last minute shopping on Saturday. Neville had approached Ron to help him choose a card and small gift for Padma, who he had a crush on all term. Padma, Parvati, and Hermione had planned to have a bit of a "girl's day out". Harry, not having anybody special to buy a gift for, was happy to tag along with Ron and Neville.  
  
Saturday morning arrived, and Mira noticed a lot of students dropping by the tailor shop to "just browse". Most pretended to look at items, and stole glances at her when they thought she wasn't looking. A few were icy towards her as they brazenly checked her out, sizing up the competition as it were. She batted her eyelashes and was sweeter than sweet to every last one of them, even the little broken-hearted ones who looked at her with narrowed eyes and pursed mouths. Aside from curiosity seekers, there were many there to actually shop. She sold out of everything she had in the Hogwarts School house colors. Aside from students, there was a rush on special orders for Yule ball robes. Apparently the festive season would be one the likes of which had not been seen in years. She wondered to herself if she would get invited to any of them. Not the one Susan and Albert were hosting. Susan didn't trust her to behave in a purely "ladylike" manner. Mira's invitation would conveniently be "lost" by an unreliable postal owl.  
  
Lucilla's little sister, Maddie, was helping Mira out in the shop during the rest of the holiday rush. Lucilla had given Mira the cold shoulder following the events that had transpired in the recent past. The professor's involvement with the Death Eaters had leaked out, but most people truly believed (or at least wanted to believe) that he was a spy all along and never really was a "true" Death Eater. Lucilla was not one of those who believed a word of it. She never let it go that she had warned Mira about him when they first started to see each other. Hurt, Lucy felt that Mira was not really as good of a friend as she thought because she had not taken her advice and called it off. Maddie could care less. She needed the extra money and was excited about the discount offered to her as an employee. Not wanting to stir the pot with Lucy, Mira never told Maddie why so many students were coming in to the store. She let Maddie go early after catching a late lunch break, and finished up on her own.  
  
Ron, Harry, and Neville started out at Honeyduke's, where Ron bought sweets for his brothers. Harry bought some special treats for Sirius and Headmaster Dumbledore. They helped Neville pick out a fancy box of chocolates with candied violets on top for Padma. The shopkeeper's wife tied it up prettily with a satin bow and a little bouquet of fresh violets. Then the boys went to the general store where they found the perfect card to accompany the gift: "Roses are red, Violets are blue. Fondest holiday wishes to you." Ron picked out a compact mirror for his little sister, that made kissing noises when opened. He also bought a packet of authentic yellow muggle pencils for his father, the resident muggle-phile. Harry would return to the village to shop for his friends another day. Living close by with Sirius, he could return one day after classes ended. It would be the first Christmas he didn't spend at Hogwarts, and he was looking forward to a more normal "family" holiday.  
  
Padma, Parvati, and Hermione had been in the tailor shop early on in the day. The twins pooled their money and bought a lovely spun spider-silk shawl for their mother. Nearly transparent, fine threads of silver and gold were woven into the fabric. Worn around the head and shoulders, it looked as if the wearer was enveloped in a shimmering halo. Hermione browsed through the little rack of dress robes, and looked sheepishly at Mira. Mira recognized the twins, and was none to friendly to them, remembering them as the ones who must have started the gossiping. But she tried to engage Hermione in conversation. She saw a girl who was a little shy, and bookish. Not at all like her colorful hothouse flower friends. The twins didn't want to hang around and beckoned Hermione along with them, not giving Mira a chance to really learn anything about the quiet young lady except that her parents were both muggles and Hermione hoped to go on to wizarding University after Hogwarts.  
  
Sensing that there would be undue attention given to her and the tailor shop all day, she owled the professor and asked him to meet her in the tavern instead of at the store that evening. Eight o' clock rolled around, and Mira rang up the last of her customers. She deposited the day's take in the safe, closed the floo fireplace, straightened up a bit, and locked the door. She went to the back, freshened up, and grabbed a warm cloak. Exiting the store, she noticed at least two dozen students in Hogwarts robes, huddled together at the front tables at the café across the street; trying to keep warm with the under-table heating cauldrons, their cloaks, and their warm drinks. They all got quiet when she emerged, and then started a frenzy of hushed whispers when Mira turned her back on them to lock the door and cast the security wards on it. She spun around quickly and caught several off guard, staring at her. With a wink and a grin, Mira curtseyed to her little audience, and hurried off through the snowy streets to the Hog's Head tavern.  
  
The tavern was a bit more crowded than usual, one would be foolish to try and brave the weather outside at the café. Even with the heating cauldrons and magical snow repelling canopy overhead, it was cold out. With so many students in town, the Three Broomsticks would be packed with the younger set. They could get bottles of butterbeer there, and Rosmerta prided herself on running a family-friendly establishment. Only a handful of tourists, the regular locals, and some "of age" seventh-year students were in the Hog's Head. But just a couple dozen patrons made the small tavern seem crowded. Mira was relieved to spot the professor in the farthest back booth, against the wall. She was even more relieved to find a steaming mug of mulled red wine sitting on the table for her. She pulled her cloak off, tossed it down on the opposite bench, and slid in next to the professor.  
  
"Why did have me meet you here instead of at the store? I don't mind the snow. I would have walked you over. I still don't like the idea of you walking around after dark by yourself."  
  
"Promise me that you won't get mad if I tell you."  
  
"Tell me what?"  
  
"Well, remember when we were leaving the tavern last week, and there were a lot of people in the square, and we had to wait for a crowd to pass and let us by?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"We were spotted walking together by a couple of students. Apparently we've been outed as an item, and the students have been gossiping."  
  
"What do you mean by outed?"  
  
"I mean that we have been seen coming and going together by some of your students, and they put two and two together, and realized that we were seeing each other."  
  
"That's absurd. And even if they did see us together, why should they even care?"  
  
"Why should they care? You mean? No. You really have no idea, do you?"  
  
"Do I what? What are you talking about woman?"  
  
Mira laughed out loud. Snape got flustered and took her by the arm, eyes glittering in the dim candlelight.  
  
"Mira, you will tell me right now, what exactly are you talking about?"  
  
She waved him off and let her fit of laughter pass. She turned in her seat to face him, tucked a stray lock of black hair behind his ear, and leaned in closely, speaking in barely more than a whisper.  
  
"I'm afraid that the news of our being a couple hasn't rested well with some of your students."  
  
"I'm sure some of the Slytherins believe you're a muggle born and disapprove. That was to be expected."  
  
Mira took his hand and shook her head, trying not to laugh. He really didn't have a clue.  
  
"Well, I'm sure there's that, but it seems that you have also left a few wounded little birds in your wake."  
  
"Mira! Stop toying with me and tell me what's going on or I will hex you on the spot and dose you with veritaserum."  
  
"Okay, okay, okay. You don't have to get nasty. It seems that you have a little following of secret admirers at the school. I received some howlers disapproving of us, and several young ladies came into the shop, shooting evil looks at me today. Along with dozens of curiosity seekers just trying to get a good look. When I left this evening, there was a little crowd at the café, watching for me."  
  
"What on Earth are you talking about Mira? I can more than assure you that no female students at the school have any interest in me whatsoever."  
  
"Oh no? Tell me. After last weekend, did any of your students act hostile to you, female ones that is?"  
  
"Well, a few, but I gave the sixth years a really hard assignment, and some got a little sick from it. I figured they were angry at me for the lesson."  
  
"Uh-huh. And tell me this? Have any of your female students seemed to go out of their way to land detention with you this term?"  
  
"Mira, please. This is ridiculous. Of course a handful of them went out of their way to earn detention, but they do that every year. They're looking for a way to try and get a prank over on me."  
  
"You think so. Do you see that table of older students by the fireplace?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Are any of them your students?"  
  
"All of them have been my students at one time or another."  
  
"Well, they have been watching us ever since I came in."  
  
"No they haven't, I would have noticed them if they were staring."  
  
"Not staring, but watching nonetheless."  
  
Mira situated herself on the bench so that the professor had a clear view of the tables by the fireplace.  
  
"Okay, I'm about to do something to prove what I'm telling you. Pretend you're looking at me, but look just over my shoulder at them."  
  
"Alright, I'll humor you."  
  
"Are they looking?"  
  
"A couple are stealing glances over here. What does that prove?"  
  
"Nothing, but keep your eye on them. No matter what I do, watch them, not me."  
  
Mira took the polished pewter mug in her left hand, rose up on her knee, and leaned towards the professor. She rested her right hand on his left shoulder.  
  
"Are they looking?"  
  
"They're stealing glances, but who wouldn't if they saw their teacher getting friendly with a woman in a tavern?"  
  
"Shhh, just watch them."  
  
Mira leaned in close, and rested the mug on his right shoulder. She reached her right arm around his back and rested her cheek on his forehead, watching the students' reflections in the metal mug.  
  
"I will bet you that the brunette girl really doesn't like what she's seeing. I'm watching the reflection in my mug, and she's getting flustered."  
  
The student at the table started to stare, and had a strange look on her face. Mira moved in even closer, crossing her left leg over the professor's left thigh.  
  
"Here it comes. keep your eye on her."  
  
The girl's face turned white as a sheet, then blood red. Abruptly, she stood up, scraping her chair backwards across the stone floor, and stormed out of the tavern, slamming the door open as she went. Mira lowered herself back down to her seat, and finished the mug of hot spicy wine. Snape looked at her with confusion. Mira smirked and patted him on the knee.  
  
"So. Do you believe me now, professor?"  
  
She got up, took his empty mug along with her own, and sashayed up to the bar, anklets jingling and skirts swishing, to order another round of drinks. Three sets of eyes followed her every move. As soon as her back was to them, they huddled together and started whispering. On the way back, Mira made a big show of putting a little sway in her walk, pretending to be having trouble steadying the mugs. She slid back into the booth beside Snape and handed him a fresh mug of hot spicy wine.  
  
"Here, I thought you might need another drink."  
  
"You would need more than a mug of wine if you had been able to see the looks they were giving you while you were walking back over here. The other girl was shooting you a look that could cut glass."  
  
"So tell me. How does it feel to realize that you're a sex symbol?"  
  
"Actually, I am quite taken aback by the whole thing. It's very disconcerting. They're children for Merlin's sake!"  
  
"Well, if I were your student, I would be doing my best to land detention with you as often as possible. I would have been all kinds of worked up during class. And if you bothered to get to know them a little better, you'd realize that some of them are adult women. Young women, but of age nonetheless. Like the one who stormed out of here just now. She's at least seventeen. Ripe for the picking if I might be so crude as to point out."  
  
"Mira, stop it right now, that's repulsive! As far as I'm concerned, they're children. Even the oldest ones are less than half my age. I'm no more interested in any of them as I would be in McGonagall."  
  
"Oh come on. Don't tell me you never had an eye for any of your teachers when you were in school?"  
  
"No, I can't say I ever did. For the most part, I kept my eye on girls my own age."  
  
"Well, maybe it's a girl thing then, but I can clearly remember lusting over my chemistry teacher when I was a senior in high school."  
  
"High school?"  
  
"Yeah, high school, final year. American muggle schools are primary school, middle school, and high school. Anyway, I utterly lusted over my chemistry teacher. I guess chemistry is the muggle version of potions. We studied formulas and mixed things together in the lab to cause reactions. Except no magic, just the natural laws of science. Anyway, I had a crush on him, and I deliberately got into trouble so that I could serve detention with him. When he came by my worktable and looked over my shoulder at my experiments, I got all sorts of warm and tingly. I can guarantee you that you are having the exact same effect on at least a few of your female students, it's just the way teenage girls are."  
  
"This is more than I want or need to know. From now on all female students who earn detention in my classes, will serve it with Mr. Filch."  
  
"How are you sure that only the girl students fancy you? Hmmm?"  
  
The professor looked at her with abject horror in his eyes. "I cannot believe that you just said such a thing. That was totally uncalled for. For that, I should just tear up what I was going to give you this evening."  
  
"What were you going to give me?"  
  
Snape fished around in his robe pockets and withdrew a large scroll, tied with gold ribbon, and handed it to Mira. She looked at him with a puzzled look, and he motioned for her to open it. The scroll was an invitation to the School Governing Board's Winter Masquerade Ball, to be held in the Hogwarts great hall on Twelfth Night.  
  
"I want you to accompany me. Given the choice, I would be more than happy to stay far away, but Dumbledore has decreed that attendance is mandatory for all the faculty members. It'll be a fancy dress ball, so you need to sort out some kind of formal character robe. And if you would please, try and find something for me as well. I trust you to pick something conservative. But do try and not dress too outlandishly. It's so unbecoming the way that so many of those witches try and outdo each other at these events. Frankly, I don't see the point of grown adults dressing up in costume, but Dumbledore seems to think it'll be fun."  
  
Mira looked at the scroll once again, rolled it up and handed it back to the professor.  
  
"Twelfth Night? That's early January. I only have a few weeks to get ready for it. But of course, I would love to go with you."  
  
Curfew approaching, the other students got up from their table and headed towards the door, a couple looking back over their shoulders as they left. Snape and Mira finished their drinks, and decided that with the students all returning back to the castle for curfew, they were safe to return to her little apartment without being spied upon. 


	39. Sanctuary from the Cold

Author's Notes: Chapter starting out with a little background on the Professor's school days and the beginnings of his rivalry with Malfoy. Pure conjecture. Probably flying directly in the face of canon, but it's my story and I'll make stuff up if I want to. It helps set up some of the upcoming plotline I've got lined up. I'm not sure we really know much about Snape's school days save the whomping willow incident with the Marauders. So this may not really be all that far from the mark. Chapter ends in an explosion of lemony goodness. (Semi-explicit sexual scenario, read only if you aren't offended by such things.)  
  
Oh, there really is such a thing as chocolate mead. It's hard to come by, and takes at least a year to age before you can drink it, but it is absolutely divine. There are some who claim it's a powerful aphrodisiac, the combination of chocolate and alcohol. As chocolate is so important in the magical world, it would be natural for witches and wizards to be in on the chocolate mead thing as well.  
  
Disclaimer: If you recognize it from the books or movies, it doesn't belong to me.  
  
Chapter 39: Sanctuary from the Cold  
  
The professor helped Mira into her winter cloak, and they left for the tailor shop, huddled close to each other against the wind and snow.  
  
"Merlin's beard, Mirabelle! I really wish you would learn how to apparate."  
  
"Sorry, maybe you can help me find a tutor so I can brush up where I'm lacking in magical skills?"  
  
"It certainly wouldn't be a bad thing for you to further your magical education. I'll find you somebody to study with during the holidays."  
  
Mira gave his arm a squeeze and smiled. She tucked the hood of her cloak up under her chin, and they stepped up the pace, to get in out of the cold as quickly as possible. Inside the shop, Snape followed Mira up the stairs to her little apartment. To chase away the cold, she took out her wand and lit a fire in the tiny fireplace located in her small sitting and dining room. Like the rest of the apartment, it wasn't very spacious nor was it very luxurious. Just enough room for a cozy little sofa and tea table in front of the fireplace, an easy chair and bookshelf by the window, and a small dining table and pair of chairs against the back wall. Directly behind the sitting room was a little step in kitchen. She took his cloak and her own, shook them out, and hung them on wall pegs near the fireplace to dry. Underneath the cloak pegs was a little rack next to the hearth, where they set their shoes and socks to dry from the slushy ice in the streets.  
  
Snape sat on the sofa, basking in the warmth of the fire while Mira went to her bedroom and changed from her work robe into a silk lounging robe. She returned to the sitting room and leaned over the back of the sofa.  
  
"Would you like a drink? I can make tea, or something stronger if you wish."  
  
"What kind of something stronger?"  
  
Mira went to the kitchen, opened a small cabinet, and shuffled through a small selection of bottles.  
  
"Brandy, Elderflower wine, and a bottle of something Jules and Maggie sent over for a Christmas gift, chocolate mead."  
  
"Chocolate mead? That sounds interesting."  
  
"Then chocolate mead it shall be."  
  
Mira took a glass goblet out of the cabinet, poured a generous amount of the coffee colored liquid into it, and carried it into the sitting room.  
  
She handed the professor his glass of mead, flopped down next to him and leaned back across his lap, resting her head on the arm of the sofa. He took a sip of the drink, and nodded appreciatively.  
  
"Very good. Not at all what I expected."  
  
"I thought it was nice too."  
  
Mira turned onto her side, so that she was facing him, and watched him stare pensively at the fire.  
  
"Tell me. What was it like when you were in school? You said you never fancied any of your teachers, but did you have a girlfriend?"  
  
"Yes, I had one. From fourth year until my family was killed."  
  
"What was she like?"  
  
"Pretty, but very vain. Haughty, and aloof. Very much a social climber. Not very studious, no ambitions of higher education. By no means dim mind you, she was gifted with a flawlessly calculating mind. Mean and nasty to those she felt was beneath her or who had displeased her, which was virtually all who crossed her path. Essentially, she was a well born young witch sent to school to bide time until she was married off to a well born young wizard to complete an alliance between families."  
  
"Wait a minute. Are you telling me that she was one of those arranged pairing kind of things?"  
  
Snape took a long drink of the mead, and reached across Mira, setting the goblet down on the tea table.  
  
"Why? Does that shock you? You've seen the home I lived in as a child; you heard the story of my family's ambition. Until the aurors attacked the Death Eaters at my home, I was destined to marry her after graduation."  
  
"But, your family was killed, your home was destroyed, so you were no longer a prime catch to a social climber, right?"  
  
"Precisely."  
  
"Wow, I'm sorry you got dumped like that, but I'm glad you weren't saddled with her, she sounds like a thoroughly unpleasant woman."  
  
"I'm glad too. I never loved her. I barely tolerated her. Granted she was pretty, in an aristocratic sort of way; and cunning enough to manipulate me into considering myself lucky for being promised to her."  
  
"She sounds like a complete bitch."  
  
"You should know, you've dealt with her in the tailor shop. Narcissa Malfoy. Back then, she was Narcissa Bryce-Prescott."  
  
"No way! You were gonna be forced to marry Narcissa?"  
  
"Not forced. I could have rejected her. I would have been disowned, but I could have rejected her."  
  
"Would you have?"  
  
"Probably not. But the issue was resolved for me by fate."  
  
"So, she dumped you and took up with Malfoy?"  
  
"Lucius was my friend. Not a best friend by any means. In Slytherin house, you rarely bring anybody that close to your circle of trust. But he was as good of a friend as any could have been. He was a good match for her, not quite as good as one with my family would have been though. His bloodline was apparently tainted with mental illness a few generations back. Narcissa's parents rejected Malfoy's father's letter of intent, leaving my family's bid for her hand at the top of the list. But, Malfoy was not completely dismissed, and was named as second in case the marriage contract with my family fell through. Needless to say, she dropped me as soon as the news of my family's destruction reached the school. The contract was rendered null and void. Oh, she pretended to mourn with me that day, but had already taken up with Malfoy by the next morning. That was the end of any sense of civility between Lucius and myself."  
  
"Well, you're rid of them now."  
  
"I wish I were that sure."  
  
"Well, I've heard the rumors. Lucius was killed, Narcissa sent their son away to live with relatives on the continent, and she rarely leaves her home nowadays."  
  
"You do know his body was never recovered and accounted for, don't you?"  
  
"Well, maybe she had it brought home for burial? You said yourself that you saw him dying on the battlefield."  
  
"Dying, not dead."  
  
"But his injuries were lethal? Weren't they?"  
  
"Probably, but who can say? There are ways to bring people back from the brink of death. Some actually lead to a fate worse than death. I wouldn't put it past Narcissa to have used dark magic to restore him, or at least to keep him just this side of death."  
  
"So, you think he's out there? Not just Lucius, but You-Know-Who too?"  
  
"I don't know. I would like to think that the battle ended the threat of Voldemort once and for all, but in the back of my mind, I know it isn't that simple. He survived near annihilation twice before. Why not again? Lately I've been having a feeling of foreboding. As if this new peace is merely the calm before the storm. Maybe it's just paranoia from my past working its way into my consciousness, but something feels wrong."  
  
"Let's not talk about it anymore, you're creeping me out. We get to spend so little time together during the school term, I don't want to waste it on depressing conversation."  
  
"What kind of conversation do you want to waste it on then?"  
  
"What were you like in school? Were you a quidditch jock? A bookworm? A class clown? Or were you a dark and brooding loner?"  
  
"Why does that even matter anymore? My time at Hogwarts was over twenty years ago, and has absolutely no bearing on my life today. The school experience is highly overrated if you ask me."  
  
Mira chuckled, sat up, and pulled herself onto her knees beside him. She leaned in, kissed his cheek and whispered to him.  
  
"It's okay, dark and brooding loner, calm down. I don't care who you were in school. If it makes you feel any better, I wasn't all that popular at school either. And besides, you do know what happens to boys who were dark and brooding loners, don't you? They grow up to be the sexy dark bastards that our mothers warned us about."  
  
He smirked and whispered back to her. "And did your mother warn you well?"  
  
Mira laughed a wicked laugh and climbed onto his lap, facing him. "Apparently not well enough."  
  
"Apparantly so."  
  
She twined her fingers in his hair, and drew him closer for a kiss. "So, what time do you have to be back at the school tonight?"  
  
He rested his hands on her hips, and reclined against the back of the sofa.  
  
"It's Saturday night, the day before the end of term feast. Technically, I don't have any school obligations until tomorrow afternoon. I can stay longer if you like."  
  
"I'd very much like."  
  
Mira clasped her knees around his outer thighs and leaned back, stretching for the goblet of mead on the tea table behind her. Instinctively, he tightened his grip on her hips, pulling her closer against him. In one fluid movement, she pulled herself back up and took a long drink of the mead, settling back down on his lap. They kissed again, and he could taste the bittersweet flavor of the cocoa and honey wine on her lips. He ran his hands along her sides, following the curves of her waist, and skimming over her hips as he felt the warm soft flesh underneath the thin fabric of the robe.  
  
Their lips parted, and he drew his wand from his tunic. He reached around her and performed a banishing spell on the tea table, sending it sliding across the floor. He then transfigured the Persian rug into a large fur throw. He gripped her tightly around the waist with his free arm, and lowered her to the ground.  
  
She looked up at the professor, one eyebrow raised and a smirk on her lips and handed him the goblet of wine.  
  
"Fur, Severus? Aren't you quite the playboy."  
  
"It reminds me of that robe you had on last week. The one with the fur trim."  
  
"Aaah, the one you couldn't keep your hands off of."  
  
"That exact one."  
  
She stretched out across the black fur blanket and rolled from her side to her back, stretching like a giant cat in front of the fire. The professor drank the last of the wine, set the empty goblet on the tea table and lowered himself off of the sofa, onto his knees. Feeling the effects of the strong wine and the warmth of the fire, he distractedly unbuttoned his over-tunic and laid it across the arm of the sofa. He stretched out next to her, propping himself up on his elbow. With his free hand, he ran his fingers through her hair; gently untangling the curls and fanning it out in a halo around her head. Then he crawled above her, supporting himself on his hands and knees.  
  
Mira reached up and untied the simple tie closures at the neck of his old fashioned linen shirt. He sat back on his heels and pulled the shirt off, tossing it onto the sofa. Mira pulled him down on top of her, and kissed him hungrily, drawing his bottom lip between her teeth. With a sigh, she broke the embrace and pushed him off of her, onto his back. She pulled herself up, and threw her left leg over him, straddling his hips.  
  
"Well, well. It would appear that chocolate mead has a rather interesting effect on witches. It seems to have turned you into quite the little vixen."  
  
She leaned over his chest and gave him a lingering kiss. He reached under the skirt of her robe, and ran his hands up the outsides of her thighs to her hips. His suspicions were confirmed; she had nothing on underneath the silken robe. Feeling his arousal, Mira pulled away, lightly dragging her fingernails down his chest and stomach as she sat back on his thighs. He gave a low deep groan and arched his hips against her.  
  
She reached down and grabbed the hem of her robe, pulling it up and over her head, and tossed it across the room. Snape let his hands wander from her hips to just above her waist, and pulled her down against his chest. Mira slid down his body, stopping to unbuckle his belt and unbutton his trousers. She eased them off, and tossed them onto the sofa with the rest of his clothes. She slowly slid back up his body, grazing her breasts lightly over his skin, until she was eye to eye with him.  
  
He reached around her back, one hand between her shoulders, the other one gripping her waist.  
  
"Enough teasing."  
  
With a growl of exertion, he flipped over, turning the tables on Mira. She found herself on her back against the fur throw, with the professor kneeling between her knees. He reached down and trailed his hands along her legs, his fingers catching on the belled anklets. He grabbed her ankle and bent her knee back and to the side, so that he could see what he had felt  
  
"I wondered what I've heard jingling all evening."  
  
He looked down at her with one eyebrow slightly raised and a wicked smirk on his lips.  
  
"Now, where was I, before I was distracted by your exotic little ankle bracelets?"  
  
He grabbed her other ankle, and bent her other knee back, exposing her completely. She inhaled sharply with anticipation and squirmed against the silky fur as he moved closer. Her breath caught in her throat as he entered her and started moving with the perfected rhythm of a long-term lover. She rested one of her ankles on his shoulder and wrapped the other leg tightly around his body, pulling him closer. Mira found her place in the rhythm and started moving along with him. Attuned to each other's bodies, they prolonged their lovemaking to the threshold of exhaustion before bringing each other to climax.  
  
Afterwards, they silently rested in a loose embrace, catching their breath and basking in the afterglow. Snape noticed that Mira's breathing had become deep and steady. He looked down at her, and realized that she had drifted off to sleep with her head resting in the crook of his elbow. He gently shifted position, so that he could prop himself up on his side, without waking her. She sighed in her sleep and turned onto her back.  
  
The professor reached over and gently brushed a stray lock of hair off of her face. He stroked her face with the palm of his hand, feeling a twinge in his heart over how beautiful and serene she looked in the glow of the firelight.  
  
"Sometimes I wonder if you have any idea of just what you mean to me." He sighed. "I'm afraid I take you for granted much of the time, and I intend to change that."  
  
He bent down and kissed her lightly on the forehead, his hair falling forward and brushing against her cheek. She stirred lightly in her sleep and turned her head a little towards the fire. When she drifted back into deep sleep, he rested his cheek on the side of her forehead, and watched the rising and falling of her chest. He twined his top leg over hers and rested his free hand on her stomach, letting his mind wander. 


	40. Face of an Angel, Heart of a Devil

Author's Notes: This is a flashback chapter. Who was Snape's first lover? What was his history with Narcissa and Lucius? Was he ever a father? Read on and maybe you will find out my answers to these questions.  
  
Implied coerced sexual contact in this chapter. Not a hard R, but R to be safe.  
  
Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me. Not a damn thing.  
  
Chapter 40: Face of an Angel, Heart of a Devil.  
  
Mentally, he compared her to his memory of Narcissa. The conversation they had earlier in the evening brought back a memory of the past. He stared over Mira into the fire and drifted back over twenty years in his mind.  
  
Just a couple of weeks before graduation, Narcissa was having cold feet regarding her impending nuptials to the Heir of the Malfoy fortune. She had slipped Snape a note during Arithomancy class, asking him to please meet her in the building known as the "shrieking shack" in Hogsmeade at midnight. Intrigued, he pocketed the note. Narcissa was never one to say "please". She demanded, and she received. She never asked. Midnight approached, and Snape sneaked out of his dormitory, and away from the castle, unseen and unheard. Not having the luxury of an invisibility cloak, he kept off the main road from the school to Hogsmeade and instead took a lesser-traveled shortcut through the edges of the forest. He approached the dilapidated old house, and saw a faint glow coming from inside. He also heard a faint moaning or whimpering noise, and for a brief moment thought that maybe the thing really was haunted. But as he drew closer, he recognized the sound as that of a woman crying.  
  
He pulled out his wand and performed an unlocking spell on the heavy door lock, and entered the main room of the old house. There, he found Narcissa Bryce-Prescott, soon to be Mrs. Lucius Malfoy, sitting on a blanket with a small lantern. Her knees were drawn up to her head, and she was crying like a child.  
  
"What's this about Narcissa? There better to hell be a good reason for you risking our expulsion this close to graduation."  
  
"I can't do it. I can't go through with it. I hate him!" She started crying harder, choking on her sobs.  
  
Snape kneeled down in front of the girl, an impatient look on his face. "Get hold of yourself. You have a choice. His family approached yours. You have the right of refusal."  
  
"You don't understand. It was your family, then Malfoy's family, and the third choice was LeStrange. But Alphonse recently withdrew his bid and proposed to that lowborn he was keeping company with. Honestly I don't know how a girl with parents as painfully common as hers ever got sorted into Slytherin. So, as you can see, I do not have a choice. My father had decided the day I received my letter that I would graduate Hogwarts with wedding plans firmly set."  
  
"And you want sympathy from me?"  
  
"You're the only person I know who doesn't kiss his ass or think his shit doesn't stink. I can't talk to any of the girls in Slytherin, they would just love to see the Princess Bride taken down a peg, and I can't talk to any of the boys, they all think the sun rises and sets at Lucius' beck and call."  
  
"What makes you think I even care Narcissa? I mean, you certainly have your nerve! Summoning, no, pardon me, asking me to meet you here in the middle of the night so that you can whine to me about how imperfect your perfect little life really is."  
  
He stood up and turned around to leave. And then curiosity got the better of him. In retrospect, he wished he had just walked out of that building and out of the lives of Narcissa and Lucius forever. He stopped and turned back to her.  
  
"Although, on second thought, I'm awfully curious as to just what Lucius could have done to throw a wrench in his little fairytale romance. He always did have an eye for you. What's the matter, the reality not quite live up to what he has admired for so long from afar?"  
  
"He's a sick bastard."  
  
"Well, no shit. You've heard the stories about his great grandfather. Which reminds me, how is it even possible for a human to breed with a house- elf? What would their progeny look like? I guess we'll never know, will we, seeing as he killed and mutilated the poor creature before he violated it. So, not only does bestiality run in his family, so does necrophilia. What an outstanding catch, Narcissa. I couldn't think of more deserving girl."  
  
Narcissa began to wail and wring her hands together. "No, you just don't understand, I can't do it, he's disgusting!"  
  
"Oh, for Merlin's sake Narcissa. What the hell did he do to you? Did he take you behind the greenhouse and ask you to lie down and play dead or something?"  
  
Narcissa leapt to her feet and slapped Snape soundly across the cheek.  
  
"Fuck you! I don't care how much you've suffered this year; nobody deserves to endure what he did to me! I didn't cause any of the problems with your family. I don't hold any animosity towards you. Why can't you just be a friend to me?"  
  
"Because I have no friends. And are you telling me that he forced himself on you Narcissa? If he did, you need to tell the headmaster, and you need to tell your mother. Just because he put a ring on your finger, it doesn't give him the right to take you against your will."  
  
"No, it's not like that at all. My mother couldn't care less, all she cares about is wedding plans. And if I told the headmaster, it'd mean dragging my own name through the muck along with his. The contract has been signed, if I backed out now, there would be an inquiry, and I couldn't bear that kind of publicity. You do understand now, don't you, why I have to confide in a neutral party."  
  
Snape sat down against the wall, and motioned for Narcissa to sit down next to him on the blanket.  
  
"Okay. I'm here. You've gotten your way. I'm listening."  
  
"Lucius got permission from the headmaster to bring me to his family's house the weekend he formally proposed to me and presented me with the ring. It was humiliating. As soon as I arrived on Friday afternoon, Lady Malfoy brought me to my suite of rooms, and there was a doctor waiting to examine me and verify that I was still a virgin. Saturday evening, the Malfoys held a party in my honor where Lucius presented me with a ring and signed his name to the contract with my father, formalizing the engagement. Late that night, Lucius came to my bedchamber and I let him in. I thought he was there to get romantic, and I figured it would be okay. I mean, we are of legal age and formally engaged to be married. Anyway, we started to kiss, and then things got a little more heated, and I started to take off my nightdress. He went mad. He slapped me and called me a whore and said that he didn't care if we were engaged, that I should have a strong enough sense of propriety to present myself to him on our wedding night as a virgin. He said that since I was such a filthy whore and had already gotten him aroused, I had to finish the job. I asked how, since he insisted I remain a virgin until the wedding. He took down his trousers, and he told me that I had to use my mouth. My mouth! Why, that's something only muggles and whores do!"  
  
"Only muggles and whores Narcissa? You are sheltered. Did you tell him to go get stuffed and leave you alone?"  
  
"No, I did it. He told me that if I didn't do it willingly, he would force me. So I did it. But it wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. He wasn't very big and it didn't hurt or anything. But it was utterly humiliating and I cannot forgive him for it."  
  
Snape turned towards Narcissa, a strange bemused look on his face.  
  
"Narcissa, I don't mean to trivialize your plight, but are you saying that your fiancé is under endowed?"  
  
"Well, I suppose, but honestly I have nothing to compare him to. I mean, I've seen the disgusting photographs of witches and wizards doing horrible things to each other that those nasty lowborn sluts keep hidden away in their trunks. And, he looks nothing like the men in those photographs. But I don't look anything like the women either, so they may not be normal wizarding folk, or they've used charms or something to alter their bodies."  
  
"So, just how under endowed is he, if I might be so forward as to inquire?"  
  
Narcissa shrugged her shoulders and held thumb and forefinger apart, approximating a fairly unimpressive measure.  
  
Snape's eyes got large and he started howling with laughter. He fell to his side, clutching his ribs, tears streaming down his face, laughing until he could barely catch his breath. He sat back up, convulsing and gasping for air, and wiped the tears from his eyes.  
  
"Lucius Malfoy, hung like a mouse? Sweet Merlin Narcissa, you have no idea how hilarious that is!"  
  
"I'm glad you find it so amusing, but I am very torn up over this. He hurt me in ways that cannot be forgiven. He doesn't deserve me, and now I'm stuck with him, and I will have to endure sharing my bed with him for the rest of my life."  
  
Snape finished catching his breath, and took her hand, patting it.  
  
"Narcissa, really it's not that bad. I mean, you do your duty as a wife until you get pregnant, then you ban him from your chambers. He'll seek the services of whores and you can discreetly take a lover on the side. You know how it works in highborn families, what else did you expect? Surely you didn't expect for it to be a real marriage of love and passion, did you?"  
  
"I had hoped it would be that way, yes!"  
  
"Well, you are certainly more sheltered and inexperienced than I had thought."  
  
"Gosh I wish it had been you. At least you're not perverted like Lucius."  
  
"And just how do you know what I'm like in that respect? All I ever got from you was a chaste peck on the cheek for my birthday, Christmas, New Year's Eve, and Valentine's Day. For all you know, I could be a bigger pervert than he is. Hmmm?"  
  
"Let's just say I have my sources. I know you've been with women, or rather a woman. I knew it all along, but pretended to be oblivious to your little trips into Hogsmeade. Severus, she's a commoner, born of the merchant class. How could you? Have you no shame or sense of the position you've been born to?"  
  
"Please Narcissa, can you give the highborn rubbish a rest? Not like it matters now, I have only a ruined home and a tarnished name to leave school with. And yes, she is a commoner, but she enjoys me for who I am, not what I am. She never knew my last name; she never knew what my birthright was. She didn't care. And for the record, that was nothing ever intended to be shared with you. It was my business, and my business alone. The very reason why I chose somebody unrelated to the school was because I wanted to keep it my business. Tell me Narcissa? Would you have rather it had been one of your Slytherin housemates? Or was it easier to justify in your mind because she was just a common merchant class tart?"  
  
"Of course it wasn't any easier for me to take. I felt like a fool. You had been promised to me for over a year when you started your little affair, I was the last to know, and I was utterly humiliated. Of course, it's the man's right to come to the marriage bed well practiced, but I am expected to offer myself over to Lucius totally inexperienced and unsullied."  
  
"You know the rules, you've had years to get used to them. I simply cannot feel sorry for you Narcissa. I mean, for Merlin's sake; the day after my entire family was wiped from existence, you had already dropped me and moved on to Lucius. As far as I'm concerned, you are reaping what you have sown and so be it."  
  
Narcissa started to cry again. Snape tried to get up to leave, and she grabbed his arm, and pulled him back down beside her. She was rapidly approaching hysteria.  
  
"Please don't leave! You're my only friend, and I'm so afraid! I can't do it! I can't! I'd rather die than marry that monster and subject myself to his disgusting perversions! Oh God I just want to die! My life is over. Over!"  
  
Snape patted her on the hand, and put his arm around her shoulder. She fell onto his chest, wailing and choking on sobs. Uncomfortably, he stroked her hair, trying to placate her.  
  
"Why me? Why? I hate my life, and I want to die! I'd rather die than subject myself to him! I'm going to throw myself off of the Astronomy tower! Or drown myself in the lake! I'll slash my wrists or take a poison! Anything to keep him away from me!"  
  
Narcissa climbed up into his lap, her voice hoarse from wailing, her body shaking with heavy sobs. Snape hesitantly put his arms around her shoulders to comfort her, her floral perfume heavy and cloying in the confined space. He awkwardly caressed her shoulders through her school robe, scowling at what he felt through the heavy fabric.  
  
"Merlin's Beard! You're not much more than skin and bones! Don't tell me that you're slimming to fit into a fancy wedding robe. You've always had a fashionable figure, enough is enough."  
  
"It's not that, my wedding robe hangs on me now. I can't bear to eat. I think of him and lose my appetite and feel sick at my stomach. I don't care, I just want to waste away and die."  
  
"Now, look here Narcissa, you can't go on this way. You need to go to the headmaster and tell him you're sick. Get the nurse to prescribe you an anti-nausea potion and start eating again. You need to tell somebody else what's wrong, because I cannot help you. You don't have to tell them why you're sick, tell them it's pre-wedding jitters. That's really the truth of it anyway."  
  
She stopped crying, and reached up and put her hand on his cheek, he flinched uncomfortably at the touch.  
  
"Oh Severus, you're so good to me, even when I don't deserve it. Maybe my punishment for having been callous to you when your family died is being stuck with Malfoy for the rest of my life. I am so sorry about what happened with your family. Please believe me that I truly did feel for you. Lucius knew that the contract with your family would be voided, and he pressured me to have no further contact with you. That it wouldn't be proper. I wanted so badly to be there for you, but I knew his reputation with the dark arts, and I knew he had leanings towards Voldemort's movement. I was afraid to defy him."  
  
She rested her head on his chest, and he gently caressed her hair.  
  
"It's okay Narcissa. I forgive you. I know what an ass Malfoy is, I believe that he would be that controlling over you."  
  
Narcissa looked up at him with large brimming eyes.  
  
"So, you don't think I'm a bad person? You don't think I'm a cold, heartless bitch?"  
  
"No, I don't. You're not a bad person Narcissa, you're just spoiled, and a product of your upbringing."  
  
"You mean you don't hate me?"  
  
"No, I don't hate you. Now that I'm out of the social loop so to speak, I actually pity you."  
  
Snape pulled her closer to him and kissed her on the forehead. Narcissa buried her face in his neck, grinning wickedly. She looked up at him, a look of utter fragility and vulnerability on her face.  
  
"You're everything he's not. Oh, why can't he be more like you?"  
  
"Narcissa, it's getting late, I need to help you back to the school so that you can see the nurse."  
  
"Not yet. Please, just hold me for a few more minutes, I feel so safe and protected with you."  
  
He wrapped his arms more tightly around her. He turned his head to kiss her on the forehead again, but she looked up at that exact moment, and the kiss landed on her cheek. Narcissa pulled back in surprise, and then pulled his face down towards hers, and kissed him fully on the mouth, holding on until he kissed back. He broke away, face paling in the dim lantern light, brows knitted in confusion.  
  
"Narcissa! What are you doing? This can't happen! You are contracted to Malfoy. If he found me so much holding your hand, he could call me out for a duel."  
  
"Please Severus, please don't make me go to that monster without ever knowing any different. I promise, I won't tell a soul, nobody will ever find out."  
  
She started rubbing her hand on his chest, and pressed her body against him.  
  
"Narcissa, stop before you start something you'll live to regret."  
  
"No regrets. I have enough of them already."  
  
She kissed him again, and to her pleasure, he kissed back and didn't stop. Gently and slowly, he took her through the build-up of foreplay and made love to her for the first time, stealing what rightfully and legally belonged to Malfoy. Afterwards, he walked her quietly back to the castle underneath her invisibility cloak, and helped her sneak back into her dormitory. The minute the door to the girls' dorm closed on him, she grinned like the Cheshire Cat. Mission accomplished, she wafted over to her bed and drifted off to sleep. Still basking in the glow of pleasure, she longed eagerly for the time when she would be able to re-live the experience with her first post-pregnancy lover.  
  
Snape never spoke to her again outside of a few tense words here and there in the halls. After graduation, while he was spiraling down into darkness, and frequenting the bars in Knockturn Alley, he overheard a rowdy conversation among some of his classmates who were whooping it up over the gossip that Malfoy had been delivered damaged goods on his wedding night. There was a wager pool going to try and guess who had the balls to make a cuckold out of Lucius Malfoy. Currently the top contender was LeStrange. There was quite a bit of gold going to the winner of the pool. Snape uncomfortably hoped that LeStrange wouldn't be pinned with the blame. Also, if Lucius would stoop so low as to administer veritaserum to her, he'd be a dead man.  
  
After returning from their month long wedding holiday, Narcissa announced that she was into her first pregnancy. But her husband still badgered her to tell who had stolen her virginity. He threatened veritaserum, and Narcissa begged, fearing that the powerful potion would harm the baby growing inside her. But she never gave up the name of her first lover. Malfoy slipped the potion into her drink one evening without her knowing, and the results were not good. Instead of loosening her lips and revealing her lover's name, the potion reacted violently with her increased hormonal levels, and caused her to miscarry. After that incident, Narcissa was said to have retreated to private bedchambers and submitted to her wifely duty once per fortnight until another child was conceived. As far as anybody knew, she had not shared her bed with her husband ever since.  
  
In retrospect, Snape very much regretted the encounter with her that night in the shrieking shack so many years ago. But he was a teenage boy, mad at the world, hormones aflame. And in a sense, he felt that it was a way of literally sticking it to the highborns. More disturbingly, he realized that the fetus Narcissa miscarried could have been his own child. The timing was such that nobody would ever really know whose baby she had carried until the potion mishap. Snape felt that Lucius knew this, and that he really did understand the risks of administering veritaserum to a pregnant woman. He hoped he was wrong, but in his heart, knew that he was most likely right. Malfoy wanted to take no chances of a bastard heir coming into the world.  
  
He felt a conflicted pang of loss. He had never been interested in having a family, not then, not ever since. He certainly had no desire to start one at this stage in his life. But nonetheless, the thought that the unborn child could have been his made him wonder.  
  
He also knew the next morning that Narcissa had played him. She recovered from her hysterical grief too easily, and a clandestine trip to the hospital ward confirmed that she had never seen the nurse and had never taken any healing potions. He felt a fool for allowing himself to be manipulated and put into such a compromising position. Angry with Narcissa, angry at women in general, and even angrier at the world, he never returned to his lover in Hogsmeade. He had only seen her briefly in passing since, and went out of his way to avoid her.  
  
Returning to the present, he felt the warm flesh of Mira's body beneath his hand. He thought back to that night, to Narcissa's pale angular body. The envy of every girl in the school, Narcissa was moderately tall, icy pale, and fashionably androgynous. Angular noble features and flaxen blonde hair were her crown and glory. The woman lying beside him now was none of those things. She was tall, but even taller than some men. She would also never be willowy. She had lost weight during her long stay in the hospital ward, but even as such, she was still all curves and smooth rounded contours. Whereas Narcissa wafted through a room like a specter, Mira slinked through it like a panther. Everything about her was Earthy and womanly. She reminded him a little of his first lover. But she was also strong. Physically, magically, and mentally powerful. He definitely admired that. He caressed the firm swell of her belly and thought that in her he had truly found his match. He closed his eyes, and held her, until their breathing fell into the same rhythm and he drifted off into a peaceful sleep. 


	41. End of Term Excitement

Author's Notes: This chapter is about the end of the term, and starts to bring Hermione a little farther into the plot. Harry will get more attention in later chapters. Ron has gone as bad as he's going to go for now. He's still oblivious to what he has done. A little bit more of Snape's romantic side will be coming to the surface, now that he and Mira have "gone public" with their relationship.  
  
I've realized that with the plot developments I've got outlined, this is gonna be one heck of a long fic. Look for at the very least ten more chapters. I may go back over the summer and re-write it, correcting some grammar and other writing style errors, and turn it into three or four sections or "books". Let me finish it and see what I've got, and then I'll start working on it again. No major changes though. Just making it easier to read and helping the continuity along some.  
  
Thanks to all of those who read and review. It's nice to know that there are people out there who are enjoying reading the story as much as I'm enjoying writing it.  
  
Disclaimers: If you recognize it from the books and/or movies, then it's not mine in any way.  
  
Chapter 41: End of Term Excitement  
  
The fire burned itself out in the wee hours of morning. Professor Snape woke to the coldness and realized that he had fallen asleep and stayed much longer than intended. He woke Mira, and started to gather his clothes together. She lazily got up, pulled her robe over her head, and carried the wine goblet into the kitchen. The professor hastily dressed, transfigured the fur throw back into a Persian rug and moved the tea table back into place. Mira helped him button his tunic jacket, and made sure he was wrapped tightly in his cloak before lowering the security wards on the building so that he could apparate away to the front gate of the school grounds. He gave her a kiss and told her he would be in contact via owl the next afternoon, once the students had left for the holidays. Mira stepped back, and with a soft popping sound he was gone. She recast the security wards and crawled into her bed, where she slept very late. The shop was never open on Sunday; it was her day to be lazy, and she intended to make every hour left of the morning count.  
  
The school was still sleeping when the professor arrived, and made his way down to his quarters. He rang for a house-elf, ordered a small pot of tea, and started a fire in his fireplace. He sat up for a little while, drinking tea, nibbling on ginger biscuits, and thinking about his life and the women who had been a part of it. He made a mental note to run an errand before Christmas, to procure a special gift for Mira. His belly warmed by the tea and his mind at ease with the state of his life, he retired to his bedchamber and napped until late morning.  
  
After his nap, he compiled and posted a scroll with the final exam scores on the outside of his classroom door. Hermione Granger and some of the other students were sitting in the hallway, waiting for their marks to be posted. Without a word to the students, he shut and locked the door behind him, snorting over Granger bothering to waste her time sitting on the cold dungeon hallway floor. Her marks were always flawless; she had come within no more than two points of perfect marks each and every term. He raised an eyebrow in contemplation.  
  
"Maybe the Granger girl would be willing to help Mira with some of the basic skills she's lacking? The little know-it-all will probably wet herself with excitement over being asked to tutor an adult witch."  
  
He added that to his list of mental notes to follow up on at a later time, and walked back to his bedchamber to prepare for the end of term feast. The house elves all busy with preparations, he drew his own bath and laid out his formal academic robe. He savored the warmth of the water, and took the time to bathe properly, even using soap. He made another mental note to ask Mira where she bought nice smelling soap, as the plain bars offered from the school storage cabinets were waxy and smelled slightly medicinal.  
  
He finished his bath and toweled off; then sat in front of the fire in his dressing robe, reading, until his hair was dry. Warm and dry, he dressed in his usual simple attire and pulled the heavy formal robe on over his head. Taking a moment to adjust the clasps and comb his hair, he glanced at the clock on the wall and realized he needed to hurry if he were to arrive in time for the faculty "pep talk" that Dumbledore gave before every end of term feast.  
  
Back in the Gryffindor Tower, the students were busy packing, discussing the marks they earned in their classes, and readying themselves for the feast. The feast would start at seven o'clock, but the doors to the great hall would open at six; allowing the students an hour to visit with friends from other houses, say their goodbyes, and exchange gifts.  
  
Harry and Ron were busy helping each other gather up their belongings and pack them in their trunks. Neville was sitting on the edge of his bed, holding the box of candy for Padma, with white knuckles and an uneasy look on his face.  
  
Seamus Finnegan walked past Neville, on the way out the door, and clapped him on the shoulder. "Hang in there Longbottom!"  
  
Ron took a break from packing and went over to Neville, giving him pointers on how to appear interested, but not too eager, when he approached Padma before the feast.  
  
Harry looked up and chuckled to himself. "Oy, Ron! Speaking of girls, are you giving Hermione her present tonight, or when we come see you at the Burrow next week?"  
  
"Oh, I'm giving it to her tonight, I really went all out on it, and I want to see the other girls' faces when they see what I bought for her. I bet even some of the Slytherin girls are going to turn green with envy."  
  
Neville looked down at the little box of candy, a glum look on his face. "Yeah, well you had a summer job and all, I was only able to hold back a little of my Hogsmeade money every month."  
  
Ron shrugged his shoulders and turned to finish packing. "Cheer up mate, you know how girls like chocolate, she'll love your gift even if it isn't all that much."  
  
In the girls' dormitory, Hermione was busily packing while ranting to Lavender Brown over her marks in Muggle Studies. "Lavender, I should have made a perfect mark. I mean, for Merlin's sake! I live it when I'm not in school. I'm telling you, Professor Gables must be mixed wizard-muggle because how else could he have mistakenly graded points off of my final exam?"  
  
Lavender shrugged her shoulders and finished folding her school jumpers. Parvati picked up a catnip mouse from under her bed and tossed it towards Hermione. "Heads up Hermione, I guess Crookshanks must have hidden it under my bed." Hermione caught the toy and deposited it in her cat's wicker carrying basket. "Thanks Parvati!"  
  
Parvati got up and sat on the edge of Hermione's bed. "So, are you expecting a special present from your sweetheart this Christmas?"  
  
"I know he got me something, I overheard him bragging to Harry that I would love it."  
  
"Oooh, something really special then. What do you think? Perfume, candy, maybe even jewelry?"  
  
"Oh no. Ron had a summer job and all, but it was just working as an errand boy. And he's not really held back much on his trips to Hogsmeade, now has he? I mean, between him, Harry, and Neville, they must be responsible for keeping Honeyduke's in business!"  
  
"So, what did you get for him?"  
  
"Oh, he's been talking about starting an errand service all term, so I bought him a few books on small business management, and a memory manager book. That way he can get off on the right foot and organize himself properly."  
  
"Er. those gifts are awfully practical, wouldn't you say? I know the thought is nice, but boys like things like candy, and joke shop tricks, and quidditch supplies."  
  
"I got him some candy too. Nothing major though. Just some of those fancy barber pole peppermint sticks. I really hate that he has such a serious candy habit, but I felt that it being Christmas and all, no harm in indulging just a little."  
  
"Well, I'm interested to see what Neville brings over to Padma. I got Harry and Seamus to admit that he fancies her and bought her a present. They wouldn't say what, but please, oh please let it be flowers or candy or something romantic like that. Anything else, and Padma will not be impressed."  
  
The clock struck a quarter of six, and all the students hurried to finish getting ready for the feast.  
  
In Hogsmeade, Mirabelle DelMare was struggling with a heavy file box in the storeroom of the tailor shop. Thwacking herself on the forehead with the palm of her hand, she pulled her wand out of her pocket and levitated the heavy box onto her desk. She flipped through the folders until she came to the one she was looking for. She removed a piece of parchment and busied herself copying some information onto a short scroll. Finished, she replaced the paper in the file, and levitated the file box back to its resting place. She carried the scroll out to the showroom and rummaged through a box of fabric sample scraps, and laid several out on the counter. She pulled a heavy book out from the shelf beneath the counter, and scanned over the pages until she came to a section with moving images. Smiling, she wrote a number down on the scroll, and made some brief sketches and notes. Then she selected two of the fabric scraps and rolled them up securely in the parchment, tying the whole thing off with a piece of twine. She placed the scroll in a leather satchel, along with a few other scrolls, and opened the owl window. Swiftfeather, the large eagle owl owned by the shop, woke up on his perch, hooting and flapping his wings. Mira set the satchel down on the windowsill, and the bird snatched it up in his powerful talons as he took flight into the darkness. He would drop the satchel of scrolls off at the tailor elf workshop and then be free to fly and hunt and do whatever owls do with their free time until he was ready to return home to his perch.  
  
At six o' clock, the students started arriving in the great hall. Most were walking around mingling, saying goodbyes, and exchanging owl post instructions. Some of the muggle born and half muggle students exchanged addresses and phone numbers. Gifts were also being exchanged. Every minute or so, an exclamation of joy or a squeal of delight would erupt from one of the tables. Nervously, Neville wiped his sweaty palms on his robe, picked up the little gold box, and got up. Tenatively, he approached the Ravenclaw table. Several of the girls started whispering and giggling. He stood next to Padma, and handed her the little gold box with flowers tied on the lid.  
  
"Uum, hi Padma. I remembered how much you liked chocolate and all, so I thought you'd enjoy this."  
  
Blushing, the girl untied the ribbon bow and opened the box. She squealed with delight and the girls sitting around her erupted in a chorus of giggles. She jumped up and hugged Neville, who blushed deep pink. He stammered something about having a nice holiday and nearly tripped over himself retreating back to the Gryffindor table. Harry, Seamus, Ron, and Dean Thomas all gave him high fives, and clapped him on the back.  
  
Harry leaned over and whispered to Ron. "Ron, it's nearly a quarter of seven, when are you going to give Hermione her present?"  
  
"Just a few more minutes, I want to make sure everybody's settled down some so that nobody misses this."  
  
A puzzled look on his face, Harry turned to Seamus and asked him what his family typically did for the holidays. Having missed out on happy family Christmases, Harry was curious about what to expect this year. Ron looked around, ran his hands over his hair, and stood up from the table. He walked over to where Hermione was sitting with Lavender and Parvati, and cleared his throat. When the girls looked up, he drew a small fancy box out of his robe pocket with a flourish.  
  
"For you Hermione, a lovely gift for a lovely girl."  
  
Hermione blushed uncomfortably. "Ron, thank you. But, I left your present back up in the dorms, I figured were exchanging gifts at the Burrow next week?"  
  
"Well, I know we had decided that, but I also know you're going to a party with your parents after you get back home, and I thought you might want my gift before then, so you can wear it."  
  
Hermione took the little box, and carefully untied the bow, setting the sprig of holly aside. She undid the wrapping paper, and opened the little box. With a very curious expression, she looked up at Ron. "A pouch? But you already gave me a pouch Ron."  
  
"No, open the pouch. The present is in the pouch."  
  
Hermione took the little pouch out of the box, and several girls leaned in for a closer look. She pulled out the hair combs and a series of gasps and "oohs and aahs" erupted from the girls.  
  
"Oh, Hermione, they're absolutely gorgeous!" Squealed Parvati.  
  
Hermione held her hand to her mouth. "Ron. I can't accept this from you."  
  
Ron's face fell, and his brows creased. "Why not? I picked them out just for you."  
  
"But Ron. These are bronze. Those are pearls set in them. Oh Ron, you must have spent nearly all of your earnings from summer on them."  
  
"But you're worth every Galleon Hermione. Go on, put them in your hair, let everybody get a good look."  
  
"I, I don't know, they're beautiful, but awfully formal. I don't think it's appropriate."  
  
Parvati nudged her in the ribs. "Go on Hermione, put them on. Half the students aren't wearing their caps anyway."  
  
Self-consciously, Hermione removed her black school cap, and pulled the hair off of her face with the jeweled combs. Several girls from the other tables stopped talking and started pointing and whispering. Just then, the headmaster stood and told the students to return to their seats, the feast would begin shortly. Ron strutted back to his seat, his chest puffed out like a rooster. Hermione felt all the eyes on her and heard the whispering over the combs. She looked down at the table, cheeks flushed with embarrassment.  
  
Dumbledore made some brief announcements regarding the end of the school term. He wished all his students a happy holiday and said he would be anxiously awaiting their return. And for those who were staying on over the holidays, special plans were made to ensure that their Christmas would be just as happy. With a clap of his hands, the tables filled with trays and platters of all manner of delicious food. The students ate and drank until they were stuffed, and then lazily made their way back to their dormitories.  
  
Ron put on a big show of taking Hermione's arm and escorting her back up to the Gryffindor tower. Still very much in shock over her gift and the attention drawn to her at the feast, she made the excuse of having had too much rich food and retreated behind the drapes of her bed, wondering just how Ron got the money to pay for those combs. What he said he had earned and what he had seemed to spend over the term just didn't add up. Maybe he borrowed it from Harry she thought. That troubled her, as everybody knew Harry had come into a small fortune through his parents. It just wouldn't be good for he and Ron to bring money issues into their friendship. She drifted off to sleep, still concerned over Ron's overspending on her present.  
  
Morning came, and after some last minute packing and preparing, Professor McGonagall gave the announcement over the farspeaker system, that the carriages would be departing the castle to take them to the train station in an hour. Any students wishing to grab a quick bite to eat before the trip could find sandwiches and drinks in the great hall. Not wanting to deal with comments about her extravagant gift, Hermione lingered in the corner of the common room, engrossed in a book. She heard a little squeaking noise, and looked up to find a house-elf standing before her.  
  
"Missus Granger?"  
  
"Yes, I'm Hermione Granger."  
  
"Message for you missus, from your professor."  
  
The house-elf handed her a small scroll and disappeared through a previously unseen little door next to the fireplace. Hermione looked at the scroll, and noticed it was sealed with the Slytherin house crest. Realizing which professor the message must be from, she hesitantly broke the seal and unrolled the parchment. Her hesitation turned to confusion as she read the scroll.  
  
"Miss Granger. You will report to the Potions classroom upon receiving this message. There is a matter I wish to discuss with you before you leave for the holidays." It was signed by Professor Snape.  
  
Worried about just what he wanted to discuss with her, she closed her book, carried it to the dormitory and put it in her trunk. She grabbed her cloak and headed down to the dungeons. The door to the Potions classroom was cracked open, she could see light flickering from inside. Timidly, she knocked on the heavy wood door.  
  
"Enter!"  
  
She slowly opened the door, and entered the classroom. Looking around, she saw no other students, and the professor was sitting at his desk, writing on a scroll of parchment. He looked up, the scowl on his face softening slightly.  
  
"Ah, Miss Granger. It's about time, I dispatched that house-elf nearly a half hour ago. I was beginning to think I would have to go fetch you myself."  
  
"I, um, I came as soon as I got the message professor. I was reading in the common rooms, and the elf must have tried to find me in the great hall first."  
  
The professor put his quill down, and gave her a dismissive wave of the hand.  
  
"Yes, yes. Have a seat, there's something I need to discuss with you."  
  
Hermione slid into a chair in the front row of worktables, and sat primly with her hands on her lap.  
  
"If this is about my final exam, I know I mistook salamander bile for salamander brain, I must have been writing too fast, because I know the potion requires brain and not bile, but."  
  
"Miss Granger! Enough! This is not about your final exam, nor is it about Potions class. I summoned you down here because I would like to ask a favor of you."  
  
Hermione knitted her brows in confusion and rubbed her hands over the sides of her robe. "Sir, what exactly is it that you want me to do?"  
  
The professor leaned forward and clasped his hands together on top of his desk.  
  
"As I am sure you have already heard, I have a lady-friend who lives in the village. There has apparently been much gossip and speculation as to who and what she is. Her name is Mirabelle, she's a full-blooded witch, but was born and raised in the United States in a muggle style home. Her magical education consisted only of daily tutoring sessions every summer with a teacher from Beauxbatons while she was on holiday in France. In some respects, she is quite advanced, but in many others she lacks even the most basic of magical skills. I told her that I would arrange for a tutor to help train her up a little over the holidays. I know that your parents are muggles, so she will not experience any culture shock in dealing with you. And you not only are a bright student, but you also have a tremendous amount of patience, as evidenced by your continual insistence on helping Mr. Longbottom in my class. Now, I'm afraid that there cannot be any monetary compensation for this, but if you agree to work with her, I will make sure to have the headmaster note in your permanent record that you have done volunteer tutoring while a student here. I don't know what your holiday plans and commitments are, or if you are even interested. I don't need your answer today, the sessions couldn't even start until after Christmas day anyway. If you are interested, send an owl back to me, and I will contact Mirabelle so that you can meet with her and figure out a schedule."  
  
Hermione sat at the table, shocked. Not only had Snape asked her a favor, he actually thought she was bright and patient enough to tutor a full-grown witch!  
  
"That will be all, Miss Granger. You best be on your way before you miss the carriage and have to run to the station."  
  
Hermione got up, mumbled a "Happy Christmas" to the professor, backed away from his desk, and hurried out of the Potions classroom. Distracted and not paying attention to where she was going, she bumped into two seventh year Slytherin girls who were talking by the staircase.  
  
"Watch it mudblood! What's the matter? Can't see where you're going because your bushy hair is all over your face? Maybe it's a good thing your boyfriend bought you those hair combs, you need something to tame that mop you call a hairdo."  
  
The larger girl sneered and blocked Hermione's way to the stairs. "Where are your little baubles anyway? Did they get repossessed by the jeweler already?"  
  
Hermione shoved her aside, cheeks burning, and hurried towards the stairs. The other girl called out after her: "That's okay, we all know that you must have had to be really friendly to him this term to get him to part with his candy money like that. But you know what they say, some things are sweeter than candy!"  
  
The two girls howled with laughter as Hermione ran up the stairs, tears streaming down her face. She found an out of the way alcove to wipe her eyes and gain her composure. McGonagall's voice came over the farspeaker system again, warning students that the carriages would be leaving in fifteen minutes, and they needed to make their way to the front of the castle.  
  
Hermione ran back up to the dormitories, where she found Crookshanks sitting on her bed, shooting her a very nasty look. The house elves had already taken the trunks down and loaded them on the carts and sent them off to the train station. Hermione soothed her pet, gave him a handful of crunchy treats, and secured him in his carrier. She ran down the stairs and through the halls to the main entrance of the school.  
  
Ron and Harry were sharing a carriage, Hermione found an empty seat with one of the Creevy brothers, who sneezed the whole way to the station. After catching her breath on the ride, Hermione met back up with Ron and Harry at the platform. Harry asked her why she was so late, and Hermione made up an excuse about being caught up in a book and losing track of time. She knew she wanted to accept the tutoring assignment, but felt no need to fuel the fires of the gossip mill any more by letting Ron and Harry in on it.  
  
Before the train departed, Hermione gave Harry a friendly hug, and Ron shook his hand. Harry wouldn't be taking the train, Sirius lived close enough to Hogsmeade that he would be meeting Harry at the station. They made last minute plans to meet at the Burrow, and tentative plans to make a group outing to either Diagon Alley or Hogsmeade during the holidays. Ron and Hermione boarded the train and found a seat in the compartment Neville was sharing with Seamus. Neville was blushing and grinning ear to ear. Apparently, Padma had slipped him a parchment with owl post directions, and asked him to write.  
  
Harry stood on the platform, and waved at his friends when the train started to move. With a little over an hour to kill, he checked his trunk and other belongings at the station office, and strolled down the main street of Hogsmeade, to get a hot cocoa at the café. 


	42. Settling in for the Holidays

Author's Notes: I wanted to explore Harry's home-life with Sirius a little in the upcoming chapters, I actually wanted to explore pretty much everybody's day-to-day life a little. Hermione will have a larger role and come to relate to Mira as a kind of "Adoptive Auntie". I gave the Malfoy's plot a rest. Too many other holiday-related themes I wanted to explore, there will be just that hint of underlying peril. As the danger increases, Harry's role will increase as well. Sirius is going to make mischief in the next chapter, and I really want to play around with that character too. Professor Snape reaches a turning point in his life, he will always remain "in character" for the most part, but he is ready to spread his wings a little. Ron is going to have some regrets. They're not going to push him farther into darkness, not now at least, probably not ever in this story.  
  
Thanks again to those who read and review.  
  
Disclaimers: Nothing recognizable from the books and movies belongs to me.  
  
Chapter 42: Settling in for the Holidays  
  
Harry found a table inside the café. The outdoor seating area was deserted, and would remain that way throughout the remainder of the season. He ordered a cup of cocoa, and watched the people bustling by outside the window. He recognized a handful of students who lived close enough to Hogsmeade that their families simply met them at the station. Others were in town to do holiday shopping and would be bringing their children home with them when they were done. Harry was quite pleased that he would have regular access to Hogsmeade between school terms. Sirius was currently renting a cabin just outside the village, living off of his modest settlement for wrongful imprisonment, which was awarded him by the Ministry when he was cleared of all charges.  
  
Many people still believed Sirius had something to do with the incident, and held a strong prejudice against him, even though the court had overturned his conviction. He had not yet taken a job, but was considering a lower level position within the Ministry of Magic. Arthur Weasley had pulled some strings to get the offer for him. It wasn't necessarily what he wanted to do with his life, but it was steady work. And he needed to think about his godson, and the young man's need for a steady and reliable authority figure in his life. The job was safe, albeit a little boring, and would pay more than enough to support himself and Harry in modest comfort. Arthur had told him to think on it, and give him an answer after Christmas. Sirius knew the answer already; he would be accepting the offer.  
  
Harry looked up at the clock on the wall, fished some coins out of his pouch, laid them next to his empty cup, and headed back down the street to the station. He retrieved his trunk and other belongings from the office. No sooner had sat on a bench, when he saw Sirius walk onto the platform. He greeted Harry with a bear hug, and motioned for him to follow. Sirius had hired a small carriage to take them home. He strapped Harry's trunk to the luggage rack, and helped Harry situate Hedwig's cage on the floor between the benches. Sirius removed his wand, tapped the wall of the carriage and said: "Millwright's Cabin!"  
  
The horseless carriage started to roll forward, and once out of the town proper, it pulled off the main road and proceeded down a narrow country lane. The two didn't speak much on the short ride. Harry watched the countryside go past outside the window. Every minute or so, they passed a wizarding home, tucked away in the countryside. This entire area surrounding the school and Hogsmeade was inhabited strictly by wizarding folk. To muggles not in touch with the wizarding world the entire area seemed to be barren, swampy, and overpoweringly creepy. The carriage passed over a small bridge, and came to rest in front of a little cabin situated next to an old dilapidated mill, complete with ancient water wheel.  
  
"Welcome home Harry!"  
  
Beaming, Harry bounced out of the carriage, while Sirius dropped a handful of coins in the fare-box. As soon as the trunk was unloaded, the carriage turned and headed back towards the village. Sirius levitated the trunk and directed it into the cabin, setting it to rest just inside the doorway of Harry's little room. Harry opened Hedwig's cage, to let her stretch her wings before coming inside. He deposited the cage on top of his trunk, and left it for later. He joined Sirius in the main room, where there was a small Christmas tree standing undecorated in the corner.  
  
"I've never really had a Christmas tree Harry. I thought we could decorate it together."  
  
"That would be brilliant, Sirius. I've never gotten to decorate a Christmas tree before. Aunt Petunia never would let me near her precious commemorative ornaments."  
  
"Well, then Harry, we'll have a tree the likes of which even that horse faced old cow has never seen!"  
  
Harry laughed, and sat down at one of the chairs at the little dining table, to look through a small stack of holiday greeting cards. The cabin was cozy, but small, and sparsely furnished. The main room had a large stonework fireplace for floo travel and warmth. On one wall was a kitchen area, which consisted of a small cast iron cook stove, a little pantry cabinet and cupboard, and a small sink basin and spigot. In the middle of the room sat a good-sized dining table and four chairs. On another wall was a small bookcase with a Wizarding Wireless device on top, flanked by two moth-eaten but comfortable upholstered chairs. Behind the main room were two small bedrooms, and a door leading to small bathroom. It was a wood beam building with a thatched roof. In days gone bye, the millwright and his family lived there. Sirius had chosen it because it was inexpensive, close to Hogwarts, and a little bit removed from the hustle and bustle of the village. Harry could practice flying without fear of being spotted by muggles, and there was the creek and surrounding countryside to explore.  
  
Hermione was very frosty to Ron on the train ride back to London. She gave him a quick peck on the cheek, told him she would owl him soon, and hurried to find her parents at the platform. She had made up her mind about the tutoring session as soon as the professor had asked. It would be a good thing to put on her application to Wizarding University. And, Mirabelle had seemed friendly to her that day in the shop. After she got home and unpacked her trunk, she took a moment to write the professor a note, accepting the tutoring assignment. Hermione rolled the scroll up, and set it aside, to be sent out the next day.  
  
With all the students who were leaving away on their holidays, Professor Snape left his chambers to visit the headmaster. He found Dumbledore in his office, sorting through an enormous stack of gifts and Christmas cards. Snape told the old wizard about his idea of having Hermione Granger tutor Mira in basic wizarding skills. Dumbledore seemed to think it was a splendid idea.  
  
"I don't think you could have chosen a better person for the job, Severus. They will be very good for each other. Mirabelle needs a patient tutor who shares her muggle world mindset, and Hermione needs an understanding ear to discuss things that young women generally don't want to discuss with their mothers or peers."  
  
Snape started to leave, and stopped just inside the door.  
  
"Oh, one more thing headmaster. I'll be in Diagon Alley for part of the day tomorrow. There's an important errand I need to run."  
  
"I see. Might I inquire as to the purpose of your trip?"  
  
"You might. But the answer is personal. There is something I wish to retrieve from my vault at Gringott's Bank. I shall be leaving at ten and will be back on the school grounds by two."  
  
"Very well. My intention was not to pry, I was merely curious. Take all the time you need. You really have no obligations with the school until the Twelfth Night ball. Except the nights that it's your turn to patrol the corridors that is."  
  
The professor nodded curtly at the headmaster and returned to his chambers. He dashed off a quick note to Mira, letting her know that he had possibly found a tutor for her, and that he would be running an errand in Diagon Alley the next morning. If she could get away from the shop, he would love to meet her for lunch in the Leaky Cauldron, at noon. She needn't reply to the message, if he didn't see her by a quarter after noon, then he would assume she couldn't get away from the shop and he would stop in on his way back to the school. Snape summoned a house elf, and handed over the scroll to be taken to the owlery and dispatched immediately.  
  
He decided to dive right in with a project he had been looking forward to all term. There was a particularly noxious distillation of marsh willow pods that he wanted to add to his personal supply stores. A very powerful irritant, marsh willow pod distillate was used as the magical form of pepper gas. It wouldn't be a bad idea to keep a cask of it around in case his gut feeling was correct. But, it was not something that should be brewed around the students. Even the vapors emitted during the distillation process could be quite sickening to somebody with a lesser tolerance. Having spent so many years in such close proximity to potions fumes, and being exposed to multitudes of potion mishaps, the professor had developed an incredible tolerance to noxious fumes and vapors. Some of the other professors joked that he rarely came up out of the dungeons because he quite simply could no longer breathe clean fresh air. Dumbledore was the only other faculty member who regularly visited him in the potions wing of the dungeons. And even he, at times, exhibited discomfort.  
  
Ron and Ginny arrived back at the Burrow, and got situated in their rooms. Percy had taken an apartment above a shop in Diagon Alley, as he was frequently "on call" with his job at the Ministry. Fred and George still lived at home, but were spending most of their time on the joke and novelty business they had started the summer before their final year at Hogwarts. In Percy's old room, they had a small office; and they kept a small warehouse of items as well as a product development workshop in the large shed by the garden. They had used the attic for storage until a batch of exploding fake coins went off unexpectedly and frightened their mother out of her wits. After that incident, NO joke items were allowed in the house.  
  
As soon as her trunk was unpacked, Ginny went to Ron's room to confront him about the gift he bought Hermione.  
  
"Ron, everybody's talking about those hair combs. Did you really spend all your money from your job on them?"  
  
"What if I did, Ginny? Or are you just jealous because nobody gave you any special gifts at the feast?"  
  
"Well, I just thought you should know, people are saying some unkind things about Hermione. About how that's not a gift that a boyfriend gives to a girlfriend unless they're really serious. As in physically serious Ron. Now, I know Hermione well enough to know that it's not true, but they're talking anyway."  
  
"So, let them talk. They're just jealous, that's all. Everybody knows Hermione's a good girl. I wouldn't fancy her if she weren't. You know how some muggle girls are, but Hermione's not like that at all."  
  
"Okay Ron. Sorry I brought it up. I just thought you'd want to know that people were talking about her and that gift; and some of the things they said were very mean."  
  
"Chin up Ginny. I didn't spend all my money on those combs. In fact, I had enough left over to get something for all of you. So, just put it out of your mind, and please don't tell Mum, you know how she is about spending money instead of saving it for a rainy day."  
  
Ron tousled Ginny's hair and gave her a push out of his room. He shut the door, and sat back on his bed, thinking about what he had done. He knew it was wrong to steal the potion ingredients, but it was only a little bit, and just how much trouble could it have caused? And besides, Snape deserved it for being such a smarmy prick to all the Gryffindors. He shrugged it off, and went up to Fred and George's office, to see how their business was coming and to try and beg samples of new items they'd been working on while he was away at school.  
  
The Hogwarts School owl arrived at the tailor shop and rested on Swiftfeather's perch as Mira untied the message from its leg. She sent her helper, Maddie, to fetch some water for it from the back room. The owl took a drink of water, gave an appreciative hoot, and flew right back out the window. Mira recognized the seal, and opened it immediately. She asked Maddie if she could handle the shop on her own for a few hours, as she had a lunch date the next day. Maddie said "no problem", and Mira stashed the scroll in her robe pocket. She hadn't been into Diagon Alley in quite a while. It'd be nice to get out of Hogsmeade for a few hours.  
  
In the Millwright's cabin, Harry and Sirius shared a simple pot of stew for supper, and sat and listened to the Wizarding Wireless for a little while before bed. Sirius told Harry to get on to sleep, as they would be taking a trip to Diagon Alley the next day to buy Christmas decorations for the tree as well as a box of cards. Sirius hadn't expected to be receiving any, and he was unprepared to reciprocate.  
  
Back at Hogwarts, the professor dimmed the fire under his distilling flasks, and cast a protective charm around the whole apparatus. If something happened overnight, and there was an accident, the fumes and debris would be contained to a small area. He sat in front of the fireplace in his chambers and contemplated his trip to Diagon Alley the next morning. When he felt his eyelids grow heavy, he pulled himself from his chair and went to bed. 


	43. Unlocking the Vault

Author's Notes: You get to find out what the professor fetched from his vault at Gringott's, and you get to see my interpretation of Sirius. I actually kind of see him as roguish. Maybe even a tish bit of a ladies' man. Okay, the thing with the vault is very symbolic. Not just the one level of opening a vault and removing something from it, but in a sense opening up to new possibilities in life. Sometimes life itself can be a vault. Sometimes, it's akin to opening a Pandora's Box, other times, it's akin to opening a prison. So, definite symbolism there.  
  
Thanks for reviews! If you read it and you like it, please review it. If not, well review it anyway and let me know what you didn't like.  
  
Disclaimer: Nothing recognizable from the books or movies belongs to me.  
  
Chapter 43: Unlocking the Vault  
  
The village of Hogsmeade and its environs woke to a cold, bleak December morning. It hadn't snowed, but there was a heavy layer of frost on the ground and in the barren trees. The school looked like a fairy castle, glistening with icicles and a layer of sparkling frost on all of the rooftops. Steam rose from the drainage grates in the streets of Hogsmeade Village, and the little stream that ran past the village was partially frozen over.  
  
Mira woke and immediately stoked the fire in her apartment before putting the kettle on for tea. She drew a very hot bath and lingered upstairs until nine o' clock, when Maddie was due to arrive at the shop. She wore one of her nicer winter robes to work that morning. It was soft brown woolen fabric with simple embroidery, and had a little matching cap. She carefully combed her hair out, and wore it loose around her shoulders. Satisfied with her appearance, she carried her nice cloak downstairs, and hung it on a peg in the back room.  
  
Professor Snape woke up and lit the torches in his chambers. He rang for a house-elf to tend the fire in his bedchamber, draw his bath, and lay out one of his nicer suits of clothing. He hid behind the heavy draperies of his bed until the fire and torches took the chill off of the cold stone floor and walls. Bathed and dressed, he retrieved a ribbon with a trio of keys on it from his locked chest, and grabbed his plain wool cloak on the way out the door. He joined the other professors who lived at the school, and the students staying on during the holidays, for breakfast. A few eyebrows were raised over his arrival at the breakfast table, dressed for an important meeting. Nobody dared ask why. An owl soared down from the rafters, depositing a scroll in his lap. He immediately read the message; it was a note from Granger, accepting the tutoring position. He shook his head over her eagerness; she must have been up at dawn to dispatch the owl. He pocketed the scroll and turned his cup right side up on the saucer and uncrossed the fork and knife on his plate, to signal that he desired service. When he finished his breakfast and excused himself from the table, Dumbledore nodded good-bye and bid him a pleasant outing.  
  
He exited the school, wind whipping at his cloak, and made his way quickly to the main gates. He took one step outside of them, and apparated to Diagon Alley. He arrived at the magical barrier wall just outside of the Leaky Cauldron. He straightened his cloak, and headed down the street to Gringott's Bank. After waiting in line for what seemed like an eternity, he signed in at the register and was directed to another line to wait for a goblin to take him back to his vault. There was some whispering among the goblins at the front desk. Professor Snape had rarely visited the bank in person. He simply arranged for all of his salary as Potions Master at the school, minus a small stipend, to be deposited directly into his vault. After a much shorter wait, he was shown to a little cart and taken to his vault, his family's vault, by one of the senior goblins. He produced the key, and waited for the goblin to open the door. Respectfully, the goblin waited in the cart, while the professor went about his business inside.  
  
It was a large vault, as far as vaults went. In generations past, it held all manner of riches and wealth. But most of it was gone now. Snape had sold off many of the treasures to pay for attorneys who tried in vain to have his family's name cleared in the wizarding courts. And, shortly after his family's death, a few in-laws and distant relatives petitioned the courts for their share of the family fortune. Severus gave it up without a fight. Money didn't matter to him; nothing mattered to him at the time. There were stacks of coins against the back wall, his earnings as Potions Master at Hogwarts. As Albus Dumbledore had taken him in and given him a second chance at life, he didn't feel right spending it. He kept it in the vault, and designated it to go to the school in the event of his demise. There were a few pieces of antique furnishings, and two large chests. One chest contained various fine household items, salvaged from the ruins of his family home, the other contained personal heirlooms passed down from generation to generation as well as various legal documents relating to his family. He swept past the first chest and removed a smaller key from his jacket pocket and opened the second. He removed a small black velvet box, and placed it in his pocket. He also removed a few scrolls before re- locking the chest. On the way out of the vault, he pocketed a small stack of coins from his stack of earnings.  
  
The goblin re-sealed the vault and handed the professor back his key. He tied it onto the ribbon with the chest keys, and tucked them safely away in one of his inner jacket pockets. Business taken care of at Gringott's, he wasted no time in heading to the jewelers, where he dropped off the velvet box and a piece of parchment with instructions on it. That errand finished, he went to the law offices, where he briefly met with an attorney, and handed over the scrolls from his vault. He checked his pocket-watch, and realized that he had a little bit of time to kill before returning to the jeweler's. He spent the next half hour browsing in the apothecary and bookshop before returning to the jeweler's to pick up his order.  
  
All of his errands complete, Snape went to the Leaky Cauldron to wait for Mira.  
  
After helping Maddie take measurements for several special order ball- robes, Mira left the shop to her helper, and fetched her cloak from the back room. She took a second to fluff her hair and adjust her robe before disappearing into the floo network fireplace. She arrived in a back hallway of the Leaky Cauldron, dusted off her cloak, smoothed her hair, and adjusted the tilt of her cap. She took the winter cloak off, and draped it over her arm, and went to the main seating area to look for the professor. She found him sitting near the fireplace, staring off into the fire. He spotted her as she approached the table. He stood up, kissed her cheek, took her cloak, and pushed her chair in for her.  
  
"Sorry I'm a little late, there was a complicated special order this morning, and I couldn't leave until I was certain Maddie could handle another on her own."  
  
"I've just been here a few minutes myself. I had some errands to run this morning and they took slightly longer than I had expected."  
  
A waitress approached their table, and took their order. A simple "pub lunch" consisting of a bowl of soup, a piece of hearty bread, and a pint of spiced cider for both. While waiting for the food to arrive, Snape told Mira about finding her a tutor.  
  
"I have secured a tutor for you. She's an upper level student. Her name is Hermione Granger. She's a little bit overeager at times, as well as a bit of a know-it-all, but she's very bright and she has an extreme level of patience. She's also muggle born and seemed very pleased to take the assignment."  
  
"Granger? Oh yeah. I actually have met her, in the shop. She's a sweet girl, a little shy, but she did seem very bright. Thanks. When do I start?"  
  
"Well, that's entirely between you and Miss Granger. Here's the scroll she sent me with postal owl instructions, as well as instructions on how to reach her through that muggle device, the telephone."  
  
"Thanks, I'll owl her this evening, I'm not sure when I'll have access to a telephone this week."  
  
Snape handed her the scroll, and she pocketed it immediately, as their food had arrived.  
  
In the Millwright's Cabin, Sirius Black had risen earlier in the morning, to start the fires in the fireplace and cook stove. He woke Harry and offered a simple breakfast of oatmeal with applesauce. Morning chores completed, and dressed in their warmest clothes, they traveled by floo network into Diagon Alley. Their first stop was at the stationer's to buy a box of Christmas cards. Following that, they went to Gringott's and stood in line to exchange some of their wizarding money for muggle money. Harry was going to take Sirius to a muggle five and dime store near the Leaky Cauldron, to buy the Christmas ornaments.  
  
Mira and the professor finished their lunch and bundled up in their cloaks for a stroll down the alley. They were walking towards the back door, just as a man and teenage boy were walking in. Mira noticed the two men immediately stiffen and take on a defensive posture. She leaned in a little closer to the professor, uneasy over the two wizard's reactions to each other. After looking each other over with narrowed eyes, they curtly greeted each other with sharp nods.  
  
"Sirius."  
  
"Severus."  
  
The professor took Mira by the arm and started to turn towards the door. The other wizard spoke up: "Aren't you going to introduce your companion, Severus?"  
  
The professor turned back towards the man and boy. He addressed them in a strained but silky voice.  
  
"Forgive me my rudeness. May I introduce Mirabelle DelMare. Mira, this is Sirius Black, a former classmate of mine. And this is his godson, a current student of mine, Harry Potter."  
  
Sirius smiled at Mira as she shook Harry's hand.  
  
"DelMare? That's French, isn't it?"  
  
"Yes, my family originated in the Calais region."  
  
Sirius raised an eyebrow and held out his hand for hers. He curtseyed slightly and gave the back of her hand a lingering kiss.  
  
"Enchante' mon cherie."  
  
She pulled back her hand with a giggle, and felt the professor's body stiffen against her shoulder. Sirius looked back up at her with a very wicked smile.  
  
"Would that be Madame or Mademoiselle DelMare?"  
  
"Mademoiselle."  
  
"A pleasure to make your acquaintance Mademoiselle DelMare."  
  
Professor Snape grasped Mira tightly by the arm.  
  
"Yes, how very nice to have bumped into the two of you this morning. But I'm afraid we both have places to be, and must cut this thrilling conversation short. Sirius. Harry."  
  
He nodded curtly to them, and pulled Mira to the door. She looked back over her shoulder as she walked out and Sirius winked at her. Blushing, she turned back around to the professor.  
  
"Who was that? And why did just the sight of him upset you so?"  
  
"As you heard, his name is Sirius Black. Let's just say that he and I have an unpleasant history going back to our school days."  
  
"Oh."  
  
Mira decided that she wasn't going to comment on how rakishly handsome the other wizard was, and she definitely wasn't going to tell the professor what he had done between her knuckles with his tongue when he kissed her hand. In the wizarding world, that kind of indiscretion was still considered grounds for a duel. And, the professor being one of the more traditional-minded wizards that Mira had met, she had no doubts in her mind that he would call this Sirius Black out for a duel with no hesitation. So, she decided to let sleeping dogs lie, and put the whole thing out of her mind.  
  
Sirius pulled Harry off to the side and leaned in, an arm around his shoulder.  
  
"Who was that woman Harry?"  
  
"That's Professor Snape's lady-friend. They've been together since before the battles started."  
  
"His lady-friend? Do you mean lady-friend as in single lady he escorts around town, or lady-friend as in his girlfriend?"  
  
"As in his girlfriend. From what I can tell, they're very much in love with each other."  
  
"Damn! So, you don't think I have a chance, eh? Think I could steal her away from the greasy old git?"  
  
"Sirius, don't. You so much as make a move on her and he'll have me serving detention every night until I finish at Hogwarts."  
  
"Do you think she has a sister?"  
  
Harry just shrugged his shoulders. "I dunno, I know she lives and works in the village, in her cousin's tailor shop."  
  
"She lives in Hogsmeade? And works in the tailor shop? Well, it would seem that I need to take my good robe in to be altered soon, shouldn't I?"  
  
"Sirius, please. It's not something to joke about with. Besides, I heard that she's into the dark arts herself. She supposedly cursed the hell out of two Death Eaters before the battles started."  
  
"So, that was the unknown witch mentioned in the Daily Prophet. The one who narrowly escaped the clutches of a group of Death Eaters in an alley by casting a questionably legal curse at them? Well, then she definitely isn't something to mess about with."  
  
"Glad you figured it out Sirius. It'd be bad enough having Snape calling you out for a duel for insulting his woman's honor, imagine having to duel her as well?"  
  
Sirius laughed and clapped the boy on the shoulders, steering him to the front door of the inn.  
  
The cold weather was enough to cool the professor down and get his mind off of their encounter with his old school rival. After a short walk, they returned to the inn and took the floo network back into Hogsmeade, arriving at the tailor shop. He took Mira's cloak and dusted it off for her. She dusted his cloak off and they walked around the corner from the fireplace, into the main showroom of the tailor shop. Maddie was busy attaching fabric swatches to a pair of special order scrolls.  
  
"Hi Maddie! It's just me."  
  
"Oh, hi Mira. Glad you're back. I did everything you told me to do with these orders, but I need help getting them bundled to send to the workshop."  
  
"No problem, I'll help you in a minute."  
  
Mira walked the professor to the front door, and Maddie looked up from her work, eager to get a good look at this supposed dark wizard her sister told her that Mira was involved with. They said their goodbyes, and promised to meet later that week. Snape reached up and twined his fingers through the hair at the back of Mira's neck, and pulled her close for a kiss. He pulled away, and shot a very nasty look over Mira's shoulder at Maddie, who was blatantly staring. With a flourish of his cloak, he spun on his heel and walked out the door. Mira shut the door behind him, and he apparated away to the front gates of the school grounds.  
  
A stunned Maddie walked from behind the counter and took Mira's heavy cloak.  
  
"Is that the guy Mira? The one who used to be in league with you-know- who?"  
  
"You've been listening to your sister again, haven't you?"  
  
"Sorry, I suppose I have. I shouldn't pay attention to gossip."  
  
"No, you shouldn't. Now, let me help you finish with those orders and you can get on out of here, I know you had to work through lunch."  
  
The two women finished assembling the order forms, and the younger one went about her way. Mira suspected that she was going to find Lucy and tell her all about getting a close look at her "dark wizard".  
  
The professor arrived at the school gates, and hurried down the path into the castle. He went straight to his dungeon workshop, to check in on his distillation. Everything had come along nicely in his absence. He extinguished the fire and left the distillate to cool so that he could transfer it to a cask the next morning. He then went to his bedchamber, and spied a scroll on the table. It was from the headmaster, asking him to stop by his office before suppertime.  
  
The professor decided to get it out of the way sooner rather than later, as he had something important to discuss with Dumbledore, and went straight up to the Headmaster's office. He couldn't remember the password, and had to wait until Dumbledore answered the door.  
  
"Do come in professor, I take it that your trip to London went well?"  
  
"Yes, Headmaster, it went very well. I got your message as soon as I returned to the castle. I'm glad you needed to see me, there are a few things I wish to discuss with you and get settled before the start of the new term."  
  
"I see. Well, then please have a seat."  
  
The professor crossed the public sitting area of the headmaster's quarters, and went into the little side office. He stood in front of the headmaster's desk, and waited for the older wizard to be seated before taking his own seat. Dumbledore cleared his throat and crossed his hands on the desktop.  
  
"I'm curious, Severus. What business did you have in Diagon Alley? You rarely venture out into Hogsmeade, and even then no more than absolutely necessary. You said you needed to fetch something from your vault at Gringott's. I do hope you're not opening up old wounds my son. Some things are better left in the past, where they belong. However, if you wish not to discuss it with me, I will respect your privacy and let the matter drop."  
  
The professor sat back in the chair and exhaled deeply."  
  
"It's not that. This isn't about my past, Albus. It's about my future. For the first time in as long as I can remember, I actually see past today, to a future; and I've found myself ill-prepared to deal with it. There were three things I wanted to do in Diagon Alley this morning. First, I wanted to retrieve a piece of heirloom jewelry, which I intend to present to Mira as a Christmas gift. Secondly, I needed to retrieve some legal documents. Thirdly, I needed to discuss some issues regarding my family's estate with an attorney."  
  
"I see."  
  
"And then there's the matter I wish to discuss with you, Albus. I know that there are no longer any reasons why my forays away from the school grounds need to be approved or even made general notice of. Nonetheless, I have been starting to feel as if my life focuses entirely too much on the school and my position here. My few brief forays into other cultures have made me feel all the more cloistered away. I am not asking you, I am informing you that I intend to spend more time away from the school, and I may even arrange for lodgings away from the school during holidays. I would also like to start taking a weekend each month away from the school."  
  
"As is your right, Severus. You know that you will always have a home here at Hogwarts, but you are not tied to the school beyond your obligations and responsibilities as a teacher and head of house. You are entitled to one weekend off per month, and you are not contractually obligated to remain in residence during holidays except for special circumstances."  
  
"Thank you headmaster, I just wanted to make sure that you had no problem with it."  
  
"None whatsoever. So, might I be so bold as to infer that this sudden desire to spend more time away from the school, combined with the retrieval of the piece of heirloom jewelry from the vault, means that your relationship with Miss DelMare is progressing to a new level?"  
  
"You could infer that. And as usual you would be correct in your inference."  
  
"I am so very glad to hear it. You do know that she is more than welcome to visit you here at the school, don't you?"  
  
"No, headmaster. I was unaware that faculty were allowed to entertain guests on the school grounds."  
  
"During holidays, and on weekends, you are more than welcome to have visitors. The only rule is that any overnight visitors must be housed in separate quarters, as not to give the wrong impression to impressionable young minds. If you catch my meaning?"  
  
"I do. And if possible, I would very much like to arrange for guest quarters on Christmas Eve. Mira's family will be spending Christmas in Calais with Eloise. Mira was quite sad that she had to stay in Hogsmeade and help the new shop-girl with the last minute shopping rush."  
  
"A splendid idea. The more, the merrier I always say. I shall arrange for guest quarters as well as another place at the feast table. Let her know that dinner is served at seven o' clock, but she may arrive any time after five."  
  
"Thank you Albus, you are most gracious to accommodate her on such short notice."  
  
"Think nothing of it my son. She's an utterly delightful woman, and you have more than earned a few special requests with your service to both the school and myself."  
  
"Was there anything else you wanted from me, Headmaster?"  
  
"No, nothing more. I was merely concerned over your trip to Diagon Alley, but after our little chat, I am confident that my fears that you were slipping back into the past were unfounded."  
  
"Then, I must be getting back to my quarters. I need to send an owl into town, letting her know the arrangements for Christmas Eve."  
  
"Very well then, I shall see you at supper."  
  
The younger wizard rose and nodded farewell to the older, then walked quietly out the door and down to his quarters. He changed from the clothes he had worn into London into his regular attire, and dashed off a quick note to Mira, inviting her to the Christmas Eve feast at Hogwarts, and letting her know that guest quarters had been arranged, so that she could stay on through Christmas Day. The scroll finished, and dispatched via a house-elf, he locked the black velvet box away in his personal storage chest. 


	44. Yuletide Tensions

Author's Notes: Hermione is brought into the story a little more, and the social class conflict between Mira and her cousin comes to a head. It's a long chapter; I think the longest I've written. No sex or violence in this one, so no warnings of that sort.  
  
Oh, thanks to those who read and review! Keep posting reviews if you like what you read. And even if you don't.  
  
I'm working on differentiating between what a character is saying and thinking, I tried italics but no luck. So, that being said, once I figure that problem out, I may start re-editing and re-posting chapters to make them a little easier to read.  
  
Disclaimer: Nothing recognizable from the movies and books belongs to me.  
  
Chapter 44: Yuletide Tensions  
  
After sending Maddie home for the afternoon, Mira found herself quite busy. She wrote to some customers, letting them know that their special order robes had arrived; and wrote a note to Hermione Granger, her soon to be tutor in the magical arts. Mira had lunch plans with Susan and Tricia the day after next. Christmas Eve was on Friday. It was already Tuesday. She would be meeting Susan and Tricia in the Leaky Cauldron at noon on Thursday. Mira wrote to Hermione, and asked if she could meet with her in the Leaky Cauldron at ten. That would give them plenty of time to get to know each other, and decide on a schedule and course of studies. Mira finished up by writing a quick note to her cousin, confirming their plans.  
  
Swiftfeather was out making a delivery run, so Mira put the scrolls aside for the moment and went into the back room to unpack the latest deliveries from the workshop. Among the stack of boxes, were three more special order dress robes for holiday balls. She shook them out and put them on hangers, reminded that the Twelfth Night ball was coming up in little more than two weeks. She really needed to get robes sorted for herself and the professor. She made a mental note to discuss the issue with Susan on Thursday, as her cousin would know exactly what was appropriate for a wizarding formal fancy dress ball.  
  
The last box in the stack was marked with a tag reading: "Personal delivery, Mirabelle DelMare". Excitedly, she hauled the large white box onto the worktable and untied the cord that held it shut. She lifted off the lid, and unwrapped the tissue from around the garment. She took it out of the box and held it up to get a good look at the finished product. It was a fine cloak, her Christmas gift to the professor. It was made of a fine black wool fabric, with a rich pewter silk lining. As per his preference towards the more austere in clothing, it had no surface embellishment. The only embellishment was the ornate pewter clasp at the narrow banded collar. Mira remembered that the professor was head of Slytherin house, and knew that the symbol on the Slytherin crest was a snake. The clasp consisted of two pewter serpents, which magically coiled around each other, securing the cloak. She took a moment and touched the clasp to activate it and watched it coil and uncoil, fastening and unfastening. She checked the measurements, and content that it was just as she had specified, she carefully folded it back up and returned it to the box.  
  
She went back up front, to check and see if any racks or displays needed restocking. A Hogwarts owl swooped in through the window, dropped a scroll onto the counter, and flew right back out without ever landing. Mira picked up the scroll and started to open it when the shop owl, Swiftfeather, flew in, deposited a satchel of scrolls on the floor, and landed on his perch by the window. Mira brought the owl some water, and fetched the satchel. She sorted the mail, and returned to her scroll from Hogwarts. The professor had invited her to spend Christmas at the school, as his guest. The Christmas Eve feast would be served at seven, but she could arrive earlier to have time to settle into her quarters and freshen up. A carriage would be waiting for her at the train station at a quarter of five.  
  
Excited, she got out a scroll and quill, and wrote a note to the professor, thanking him for his invitation, and letting him know that she hoped to be meeting with her new tutor later in the week. She would be away from the store most of the day on Thursday, and probably wouldn't be able to see him until Friday when she arrived at the school. Wednesday would be a total madhouse, due to the final pre-Christmas special orders being picked up and final alterations made.  
  
When the shop owl was fully rested, Mira tied the scrolls addressed to Hermione and Susan to the bird's legs, and handed him the one addressed to the professor in his beak. Swiftfeather took off through the window, to deliver the scrolls and patrol the countryside, hunting for his supper. Mira never looked out the window, and had no idea that a witch and wizard had cast a spell on the bird, calling it down to them. The older wizard held his dragon hide gloved arm out for the owl to perch on. They crossed the lane to a dark carriage that was parked in the shadows. A cloaked and hooded man took each of the scrolls from the owl, read them, and replaced them exactly where they were. The gloved wizard released the bird, unharmed. The witch climbed into the carriage, the gloved wizard climbed into the driver's seat. With a flick of his wand, the entire carriage disapparated into the night.  
  
Wednesday was an absolute nightmare for Mira and Maddie. There were a dozen robes being picked up for Christmas feasts and Yule balls. Two needed more than minor magical alterations, and Mira found herself pressed into service with the ancient treadle powered sewing machine located in the back room of the store. The women worked through lunch, and got their last customer out the door at exactly five after nine that night. Maddie took the floo network back home, and Mira trudged up the stairs to bed. She never heard back from the Granger girl, and assumed that she would be meeting her in London at ten the next morning.  
  
Mira got off to a slow start on Thursday. After helping Maddie get the shop open and ready for the day, she took the floo into Diagon Alley; but there must have been a backup in the network, because she arrived in the bookstore, not the Leaky Cauldron. Mira swore under her breath, as she bundled up in her cloak and hurried down the alley to the tavern. She arrived and immediately spotted her tutor sitting in a corner, near a window. Mira approached the girl's table.  
  
"Hi there Hermione, hope I'm not too late, am I?"  
  
Hermione fidgeted with a small stack of books on the table.  
  
"Oh, no, not at all, I got here early. Mum dropped me off on her way to work. I've just been catching up on my reading assignments."  
  
Mira took her cloak off, set it on an empty chair, and deposited her cap and handbag on top of it.  
  
"So, I assume Professor Snape told you why I needed a tutor? I never really had a formal magical education."  
  
"Um, he didn't say a lot. Exactly how much magic can you do, Ms. DelMare?"  
  
"Quite a bit, but please, call me Mira. Oh, would you like to share a pot of tea?"  
  
Hermione nodded and Mira flagged down a serving girl, who immediately brought a small tea service to their table. Tea poured, and initial formalities out of the way, Hermione was a little more at ease.  
  
"Okay Mira, what areas of magic do you think you need help in the most?"  
  
Mira described her yearly holidays in France, and the tutor her grandmother had hired for she and her cousin. She also talked about how Susan was fascinated by the magical world, and how she couldn't have cared less. She told Hermione that she passed on most of the extra lessons offered by Grand- mere Eloise. However, Eloise was very concerned about the threat of dark magic and wanted to teach the girls advanced curses so that they could hold their own if ever faced with a evil witch or wizard intent on doing them harm. Susan didn't want to even hear about such things, but Mira learned and learned well. Eloise taught her how to take somebody down with one curse, instead of the conventional disarming or blocking charms. She also taught her the illegal Imperius curse, and sternly warned her to use it only if she found herself or somebody else to be in immediate danger. It was Eloise who bought the girls their wands. Mira's being a petite seven and a half inch rigid wand of rosewood; in it's core the whisker of a kneazle. It was also Eloise's idea for Mira to have a matching decoy wand made and to wear them as hair-sticks so that it was easily accessible, but hidden in plain sight. After the death of their parents, Mira explained, Susan completely immersed herself in the wizarding world and continued her education; but Mira walked away from it and pursued a life in the muggle world. And that's where her magical education had ended. When she first arrived in Hogsmeade to stay with her cousin's family, Susan taught her a few more charms and spells so that she would be a little more self- sufficient, but in all she was not at the proper skill level for an adult witch. She told Hermione that she needed help in transfiguration for sure, and they agreed that it would be a good start.  
  
Then they made small talk for a little bit, finishing the pot of tea. Mira asked Hermione what her best subjects in school were, and what she planned on studying at university. Hermione replied that she was very partial to the "precise arts" like arithomancy and potions, and would probably study both as a double major at university. She was less interested in more abstract subjects like divination and the study of magical creatures and plants. Mira laughed and said she was the complete opposite and had studied art history in college, and had loved her art classes back when she was in school.  
  
Their discussion drifted to their lives in general, and how they both sometimes had a lot of trouble fitting in with the wizarding world. Hermione was just beginning to come out of her shell, when Susan and Tricia arrived at the inn. Tricia hurried over to the table, and hugged her "auntie". Susan took her time walking across the dining room, and greeted Mira in a casual and aloof manner. Mira introduced Hermione to the newcomers.  
  
"Susan, Tricia, this is Hermione Granger. She's a student at Hogwarts, and has generously agreed to tutor me where I am lacking in magical skills."  
  
Susan gingerly shook Hermione's hand, and Tricia looked at her with a strange expression, trying to place her from her memories of Hogwarts.  
  
"Oh, hi, I remember you. You're in Gryffindor, right?"  
  
"Yes, that's' right, I remember you were a Hufflepuff, weren't you?"  
  
Hermione looked over at Mira, to get her attention.  
  
"Well, I suppose I best be going. It was nice to meet you Mrs. Treadle, and nice to see you again Tricia."  
  
Mira patted the girl's hand and motioned for her to sit down.  
  
"Please stay Hermione. I'm sure Susan and Tricia would love to have you join us for lunch, wouldn't you Susan?"  
  
Susan nodded nonchalantly, and waved for a serving girl to take their orders. Tricia and Hermione chatted amicably, exchanging stories of both Hogwarts and Beauxbatons. Tricia also asked many questions about the current trends in the muggle world. She, like many other young full- blooded witches and wizards, had a fascination with anything of the muggle culture. Tricia turned and tugged at Mira's robe sleeve.  
  
"Auntie Belle, can Hermione come along when you take me out in muggle London after Christmas? Oh please, can she?"  
  
"Well, that's up to Hermione, and Hermione's parents, now isn't it? I'm sure to Hermione, it's nothing special, just like a day in Diagon Alley is nothing special to you. But if it's okay with her, and okay with her parents, and okay with Susan, then sure, the more the merrier."  
  
Hermione looked over at the two women.  
  
"Honestly, I don't want to intrude, it's okay, really."  
  
Susan smiled at the girl. "Nonsense dear. Why I think it's a grand idea for Tricia to maintain ties with her peers here in England. And from what I've heard, you're quite the scholarly little witch; with all the honors and top marks you receive. You'd be a wonderful influence on her, because Merlin knows she could use some motivation to take her studies more seriously."  
  
"Oh Mum! I do well in school!"  
  
"You could always do better dear."  
  
Mira looked down at her plate and subtly rolled her eyes. Some things never changed. Tricia was going to be Tricia, and no amount of cajoling and nagging would make her any more scholarly and serious. Mira remembered her dilemma regarding the fancy dress ball robes and turned to her cousin.  
  
"Oh, before I forget Susan. What exactly is appropriate attire to wear to a formal fancy dress ball in the wizarding world?"  
  
"Why, did somebody come into the shop for advice on what to order?"  
  
"Uh, no. Actually I've been invited to a formal fancy dress ball and I have no idea what kind of robes to come up with for my escort and myself."  
  
"Oh, I see. Which ball have you been invited to Mira? I thought I knew of all the ones being held in Britain this season?"  
  
"The Hogwarts School Governors' Board Twelfth Night Masquerade Ball."  
  
Susan nearly choked on her salad. She put down her fork and only barely regained her composure.  
  
"The Hogwarts Ball? You've been invited to the Hogwarts Ball? Why that's nonsense! How on Earth would you manage an invitation to that event? Those invitations are the most highly sought-after pieces of parchment in the wizarding world!"  
  
Mira shot her cousin an ugly glare. Hermione looked up from her plate, a slightly pained expression on her face.  
  
"Um, Mrs. Treadle. Mira's been seeing the head of one of the Hogwarts School houses, and I'm assuming it was him who invited her. Wasn't it Mira?"  
  
"You're right Hermione. He invited me to the ball before the school term was over. He also invited me to spend Christmas with him at the school, since I won't be able to make it to Grand-Mere Eloise's in time for the festivities."  
  
Flustered, Susan batted her eyelashes at her cousin and mumbled a response.  
  
"Oh, well, I see, then I do hope you understand just how lucky you are to have this kind of a chance, I also hope you behave yourself and refrain from embarrassing yourself and your family."  
  
"Yes Susan. I'm not planning on climbing up on the head table, and hiking up my skirt to do a can-can or anything."  
  
Tricia sat with large eyes, taking in the exchange between her mother and her "auntie". She tugged at Mira's robe again, and motioned her to lean in close to her.  
  
"Auntie Belle, you really did start going out with him, didn't you? I knew you fancied him after that day in the shop."  
  
The girl giggled, and Mira tousled her hair.  
  
"So, Susan. Tell me about these events. What can I expect? What do we need to wear?"  
  
Susan explained to her cousin that the guests at wizarding fancy dress balls generally wore more abstract costumes, not like the character costumes worn at muggle fancy dress parties. Typical choices included: Historical wizarding dress, allegorical figures, elemental themed robes, etc. It was not necessary to dress in a "costume" but rather a robe suggesting a theme. Nothing clever or humorous, and certainly nothing risqué or revealing. With lunch wrapping up, Susan promised to owl Mira a selection of clippings from the Daily Prophet, with photographs of the best dressed witches and wizards at the last Hogwarts Masquerade Ball, held several years back.  
  
Hermione was the first to excuse herself from the table. She stood up and shook Mira's hand. The girl gave her an old schoolbook, introductory transfiguration; and suggested that Mira read it in full, before their first full session, which would take place on Monday. Mira promised to owl Hermione over the weekend to let her know when and where they could meet.  
  
Hermione said her good-byes and exited the inn on the muggle side, to take the subway to her mother's office. Tricia and Susan were staying on in Diagon Alley to do some shopping. Tricia was eager to get out and see the sights. The two women got up and followed the girl out the door. Neither had any reason to notice the old witch sitting a table behind them. The old woman rose and exited the inn, making her way to Knockturn Alley; where she met with a cloaked and hooded man in the tavern.  
  
In Hogsmeade, Maddie found herself busy but not overwhelmed in the tailor shop. There had been an early morning rush, and then a slow period around noontime. A young woman came into the shop, inquiring about a special order. Maddie showed no order under that name in her register book, but the young witch was insisting that one had been placed for her employer. When Maddie went into the back room to look for a forgotten parcel that might contain the robe, the young woman removed a little pouch from her pocket, opened it, and released a tiny glass orb into the air. It floated like a soap bubble, and landed up on the top of the highest shelf, where it wouldn't be noticed. Maddie returned to the front of the store, but the young witch was gone. She shrugged her shoulders, and figured that the woman must have realized that the order had been placed at a different robe shop, because they surely had no record of it at Treadle's.  
  
In Diagon Alley, tensions were running high between the two cousins. While Tricia hurried on ahead, Susan and Mira walked at a leisurely pace, taking in the sights, and making polite small talk. Mira's cousin took her by the arm, and leaned her head slightly towards her.  
  
"So, tell me Mira, what's going on with you and this professor at Hogwarts? I wasn't aware that your little peccadillo with him before the fighting ever amounted to anything? I did some research on his family, and I am quite disappointed in you. I did my absolute best to help guide you into a good match with that widowed friend of Albert's and you turned your nose up at him. For what? For a teacher who carries the double burden of a disgraced family name and a history of questionable dealings with You Know Who. Honestly, Mira. If you show up on his arm at that ball, people will talk."  
  
Mira tightened her grip on her cousin's arm, and smiled a saccharine smile.  
  
"Oh Susan, don't you remember? The Ministry also gave him the highest level of commendations for his valiant service as a spy for the Alliance. Albus Dumbledore considers him to be a trusted friend and colleague. And don't forget, Grand-Mere met him and gave him her blessing. Why in Merlin's name would you have a problem with him?"  
  
"Come off it Mirabelle. Everybody who is anybody knows that he has a very dark history and managed to come out of the muck smelling like a rose by sheer chance. Albus Dumbledore may be a great wizard, but he has been known to make mistakes. And Grand-Mere is an old woman with romantic notions of youth who indulges you much too freely. Besides, I have seen him through fire-talking, and he is a most unattractive man. That stringy long hair, and those monkish plain robes. He could dress better on his salary. I know Dumbledore doesn't pay much, but he pays enough for his faculty to afford hair shampoo and decent robes! And that professor despised my Tricia, always sending nasty letters home about her behavior in class. I am very disappointed in you. I had hoped that you would take this chance at a new life in England to create a better life for yourself. You have so much potential dear. I could have helped you get in with the right kind of people."  
  
The two women stopped, as Tricia darted towards a shop that sold magical beasts. She was standing with her nose pressed against a large window where there were several juvenile snowy owls on display. Mira turned to her cousin, and motioned her out of the lane, where they had a little more privacy.  
  
"Susan, I'm only going to say this once, so please listen closely. I like my life. I like working for you and Albert in the shop. I like my little apartment. I like living in Hogsmeade for the most part. And I love this professor. Now, you don't have to be thrilled, but I do expect some respect over my choices. They're my choices, Susan. Not yours. I'm very happy for you that you are living the life you dreamed of. Let me live my life too. You don't have to agree, all I ask is that you accept that we have very different values and try and find a common ground. I really would hate to drift farther apart from you and Tricia, but this is the life I have chosen for myself, and this is the man I have chosen to love. You can either deal with it or not. The choice is yours."  
  
Susan pulled away, with a prim and pursed look on her face. She straightened her cap, and smoothed the front of her robe.  
  
"Fine. If you're happy with him and the kind of life he can give you, then who am I to try and persuade you otherwise. You always marched to the beat of your own drummer and turned your back on the gifts that Fortune has laid in your path. But know this. I want more for my daughter, and I will not have you filling her head with any silly notions of settling for less than the best the wizarding world has to offer her. I'm allowing her to spend this day in London with you simply because I cannot bear venturing out into the muggle world anymore, it gives me a headache. I'm pleased that the Granger girl will be tagging along. She's a prime example of just how far even a muggle can go in the wizarding world, given hard work and talent. Maybe she'll motivate Tricia to work a little harder at school. If she sees that a muggle can do it, then she has no excuse not to excel as well. I'm sorry you won't be able to make it to Eloise's cottage for Christmas. I do hope that your celebration at Hogwarts is a pleasant one. Now, Tricia and I are on a schedule today, we have several stops to make, and I wouldn't want to keep you from work. I'm sure the new shop girl could use some help this afternoon."  
  
Susan gave Mira a light hug and kissed the air beside her cheek.  
  
"Happy Christmas Cousin. I'll be sure to give your love to Eloise."  
  
Susan turned and walked over to her daughter, put an arm around the girl's shoulder, and guided her off down the alley. Furious with Susan, Mira exhaled sharply, turned on her heel, and stalked back to the Leaky Cauldron. She waited in line at the floo fireplace and gave the location of the tailor shop. With the floo network so overloaded with holiday travelers, she was ejected out of the fireplace in the Three Broomsticks inn instead. She cursed under her breath and headed for the door. Not paying attention to where she was going, she didn't see a man push his chair away from the table in front of her. Mira collided with him, and was thrown off balance. The man grabbed her around the waist and deposited her into the chair.  
  
"Pardon me miss, I didn't look before I stood up."  
  
Mira looked over her shoulder and recognized him instantly. It was the man from the Leaky Cauldron. Sirius Black. He looked at her with a wicked gleam in his eye.  
  
"Well, what a pleasant surprise Mademoiselle DelMare. Fancy literally running into you here! Please, let me buy you a drink, it's the least I can do for nearly knocking you down."  
  
"Thanks but it's not necessary. I wasn't paying attention to where I was going. I was thinking of other things and got a little distracted."  
  
Sirius knelt down, picked up Mira's book and handed it to her.  
  
"What in Merlin's name could drive a fair maiden like yourself to distraction? That overgrown vampire bat you keep company with hasn't been giving you a hard time has he? If so, I would be more than honored to call him out for a duel."  
  
"No, nothing like that, it doesn't have anything to do with him at all. Well, not directly. It's my cousin, she's putting on high-born airs and she feels that he's beneath me. She wants to set me up with somebody else, but I'm not interested, and she can't seem to just drop it and leave me be."  
  
Mira took her book, stood up, and straightened her cap and robe.  
  
"Why am I even telling you this? You can't stand the man."  
  
"Well, I won't lie and say that's not true, but I am quite fond of you. Come on, let me buy you a drink, just one?"  
  
"Thanks, but no. I really have to be getting back to work. I'm late as it is."  
  
"Well, then let me walk with you. You work at the tailor shop right? I'm meeting my godson and his friend across the street at the café. I promised to take them to the Quidditch shop and buy them a practice quaffle. Harry's friend really wants to make the team his final year in school, and he needs a lot of practice to get there."  
  
"It's a free country, and I can't hardly stop you from walking the same way that I am, now can I?"  
  
Mira clutched her book to her chest, turned, and walked to the door of the inn. Sirius hurried to catch up and open the door for her. Outside of the inn, he held out his arm and motioned for her to take it. Mira raised her eyebrow at him.  
  
"Oh come now! I wanted to make sure you didn't slip on the ice on the sidewalk. Nothing more. You wound me with your suspicions. I'm nothing if not a gentleman!"  
  
"I'm quite sure I can manage two blocks without breaking my neck."  
  
"Please, my father always told me that a gentleman offers his arm to a lady when they are walking together, don't make me a disappointment to the memory of my dearly departed father."  
  
"Oh all right! But don't think for an instant that I don't know just how much of a rogue you really are."  
  
Sirius gave Mira an exaggerated pout. She took his arm, and they headed down the street to the tailor shop. 


	45. Hints of Things to Come

Author's Notes: A little foreboding of what's to come following the holidays. Lucius Malfoy is up to no good, and Harry has a disturbing dream.  
  
Disclaimers: If it's recognizable from the books or movies, it's not mine.  
  
Chapter 45: Hints of Things to Come  
  
Harry and Ron were sitting in the café, drinking cocoa with large, light-as- air marshmallows, and playing a game of wizarding chess. While waiting for Ron to make his next move, Harry stared out the window, daydreaming. He saw his godfather walking down the street with a woman. They got closer and Harry realized who the woman on Sirius' arm was.  
  
"Oh no! I don't believe this!"  
  
Ron looked up, puzzled.  
  
"What? What don't you believe Harry?"  
  
"It's Sirius. He's gone completely around the bend. Look who he's with."  
  
Ron peered out the window, and his eyes got big with recognition.  
  
"Bloody Hell Harry! What in Merlin's name is Sirius up to, walking with her?"  
  
"I don't know, but whatever he's up to, it's definitely not good. I told you what happened at the Leaky Cauldron, didn't I?"  
  
"Yeah, you said Snape actually had a vein bulging out in his forehead. I've never seen him that cross before, not even with Neville blew up his cauldron and splashed the entire class with hair raising potion."  
  
"Well, I don't like this Ron. It's like Sirius was taunting him back in Diagon Alley. I know their history together, but you'd think it'd all be water under the bridge now, especially since they had to fight alongside each other in the battles."  
  
Ron shrugged his shoulders and took a drink of his cocoa.  
  
"No sense getting too upset about it Harry. I mean, from what you've said, he kissed her hand, and he's just walking with her now. I wouldn't be worried. He flirts with all the women in the village, right?"  
  
"Yeah, but I sure hope he knows when enough is enough."  
  
Sirius and Mira arrived at the tailor shop; he let go of her arm, and opened the door. He smiled impishly and held out his hand for her. She took it and gave it a friendly shake, not giving him a chance to try and kiss it. Mira bid him a curt "good day and Happy Christmas". She entered the store and closed the door firmly behind her. Sirius laughed and headed across the street to meet up with the boys.  
  
Maddie ran to the window, to get a closer look at the wizard who had walked Mira home.  
  
"Mira! That's Sirius Black! You know about him don't you? He got cleared of all that wrong-doing but Lucy says that you know he must have had something to do with it or he wouldn't have even been there when it happened, would he?"  
  
"Maddie! Stop! I'm not in any mood to listen to Lucy's conspiracy theories. I've had a long morning in London, Susan and I had a row, and this Sirius Black is playing games with me. I just want to go back into my office, have a cup of tea, and catch up on my paperwork. Is that okay with you?"  
  
"Well, pardon me for breathing. Oh, I need to tell you, I've got plans for tomorrow evening, so I need to be out of here by four."  
  
"That's fine, we're closing at two. If you can work from ten 'till two, I would very much appreciate it. After tomorrow, you'll be working on call. Can you manage that?"  
  
"Whatever you say."  
  
Mira went into the back room, filled a cup with water, and dropped a muggle style teabag into it. She took her wand out and gave the cup a stir. Within seconds, steam started rising as the tea steeped. She sat down and rested her head in her hands. She was very relieved to be spending Christmas at Hogwarts. If the professor had not invited her to spend the holiday with him, she would have made her excuses to Eloise and taken off to New Orleans for the weekend.  
  
She pulled a large book off of the shelf above her desk, and flipped through it while sipping her tea. It was a sample book of very exotic textiles. Each page held a sample piece of fabric, a description of its properties, and a price per meter. She had hoped to get ideas for ball- robes from the book, but found herself not in the right frame of mind at the moment. She finished her tea, and started in on a stack of paperwork. At seven o' clock, Maddie came into the back room, and told Mira that there hadn't been any customers since five, and she would like to leave before eight. Mira dismissed her and filed the paperwork away for another day. She went up front and locked the door and turned the sign over to read "closed".  
  
Mira looked up out the window, at the sight of motion, and recognized Susan and Albert's owl circling overhead. She opened the owl window, and the bird dove in for a landing on Swiftfeather's perch. It sat obediently still while Mira untied a large scroll from its leg. Relieved of its burden, the owl hooted, flapped its wings, and took off into the night sky. Mira recognized Susan's handwriting on the scroll, and pocketed it, guessing it would probably be a nasty letter, continuing their argument from earlier in the day. She closed the floo fireplace, locked the day's earnings in the small safe, and cast all the usual protective charms and wards around the building. The wards cast, only Swiftfeather could enter and leave through his owl window. No witch, wizard, or other magical creature could gain entry.  
  
Mira went upstairs to her apartment, and fixed a simple supper. After she finished eating, she sat at the table looking at the book from Hermione and the scroll from Susan. She decided to get Susan's letter out of the way, and opened it. Inside she found not a nasty letter, but several clippings from the Daily Prophet and Witch Weekly, showing the best-dressed witches and wizards in attendance at the last Hogwarts Ball. The robes being modeled in the photographs were utterly stunning. A handful of very high born witches and wizards preened and posed for the camera, light glinting off of magnificent jewels and elaborate themed robes. Mira recognized Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy. Narcissa was wearing a Winter themed robe. Dozens of jeweled snowflakes twinkled on and off, and gave the illusion of falling across the surface of her ice blue robe. She had an elaborate platinum and diamond snowflake necklace and earrings. A matching diamond tiara sparkled atop her sleek corn-silk blonde hair. Lucius was dressed in a robe that alluded to Winter as well. But his robe was midnight blue velvet, edged in embroidered silver icicles. He carried a staff carved from what looked like rock crystal, in the shape of a long thin icicle. Other robe themes included: The Gryffindor Lion, a couple robes styled after the era of the school founders, and even a fair approximation of a robe from Merlin's era. A very distinguished older woman wore a gray robe, which was embroidered with heavy cording spider webs. A jeweled spider brooch had been enchanted to crawl up and around her shoulders. Guests in less spectacular robes were visible in the backgrounds of the photographs. A few had hand held masquerade masks as part of their ensembles, but most did not. A couple had what appeared to be painted and bejeweled faces. All the robes visible in the photographs were stunning, even those not chosen to be on the best-dressed list were more impressive than Mira had imagined.  
  
Mira read the note enclosed with the clippings.  
  
"Of course you and your professor won't be able to come up with anything this grand, but this is an idea of the caliber of dress which will be expected of you. If you can't come up with anything on your own, Albert and I have fancy dress robes that you can borrow. They're not quite up to these standards, but they'll do. You won't be woefully outclassed in them. If you need them, please send the owl and let me know so that I can get them out of storage and have them pressed."  
  
Mira sighed and rolled the photographs up in the scroll. She would do her best to come up with something on her own, but in a pinch, she'd take Susan up on her offer to use the robes. She picked up the textbook and went to the sofa to read. After an hour, the words on the pages ceased making much sense, so Mira put the book down on the tea table and went to bed.  
  
As soon as the lights were out, the little glass orb began to glow dimly, and rose from its resting place downstairs in the shop. It floated up the stairs, and bobbed around the little apartment, seeking out every nook and cranny. It hovered over a sleeping Mira for a few minutes, and dropped down within inches of her face, where it lingered for some time. The orb then darted back down the stairs to its resting place on the shelf.  
  
At the Malfoy's country estate, Lucius sat hunched over a crystal ball, watching with great interest the view afforded him by the floating sphere. He picked up a small silver box, from the corner of his desk. He opened it, removed a little bundle of reddish hair, and stroked it between his thumb and forefinger as he stared into the crystal. A knock at the doors of his study brought him back to the here and now. Hastily, he deactivated the far-seer crystal, and replaced the lock of hair back in its silver box.  
  
"I am quite busy at the moment, and do not wish to be disturbed!"  
  
He heard his wife's voice from the other side of the door. She sounded very strained, as if she had been crying or trying not to cry.  
  
"Lucius! Are you going to be in there all night? I received an owl from Draco, and I would hope that you are interested in hearing how your son is managing away from home during the holidays!"  
  
Lucius threw a black velvet cloth over the crystal ball, and made an angry snarling noise. He pulled himself to his feet, and reached for the silver box. He limped across the room to a large heavy cabinet, pulled a key out of his waistcoat pocket, and unlocked the door. He replaced the silver box next to a smaller one. He picked up the smaller box and sneered, returning it to it's resting place. Next to the silver boxes were two quills and a large bottle of a vile viscous green liquid. He ran his fingers over the surface of the bottle and exhaled. He re-locked the cabinet, and pocketed the key. Then he straightened his collar and limped across the room to the large double doors. Lucius unlocked them, threw them open, and stood glowering over his wife.  
  
"Why must you insist on annoying me when I am working! Have you forgotten just how important of a task we have been entrusted with? And you disturb me to read a letter from a homesick schoolboy! What is the matter with you woman? I have told you that once Master is reborn, and I am restored to health, we will send for Draco and you can play happy families again. But for now, there are other things on my mind! You best not waste your energy brooding over the boy and start preparing for your role in this task. Have you been taking the potion I brewed for you? Every night?"  
  
Narcissa bit her lip to fight back tears. She nodded yes, she had been taking the fertility enhancing potion that would ensure she conceived a healthy son. She looked down at her hands, as Lucius' valet approached the study.  
  
"Will you be taking your brandy in your study, or in the sitting room this evening Master Malfoy?"  
  
Lucius brushed past Narcissa, and called back over his shoulder.  
  
"I will be taking it in the sitting room, alone. Please see that the doors to my study are properly secured before you serve. Lady Malfoy will not be joining me this evening, I'm afraid she needs her rest."  
  
Tears began to stream down Narcissa's face. She fled down the hallway and up the stairs to her chambers.  
  
Harry slept fitfully in his bed at the Millwright's cabin. The scar on his forehead tingled with warmth, and he had a strange and disturbing dream. In his dream he was in a graveyard, the graveyard he had been transported to during the Triwizard Tournament. But he was alone. There were no Death Eaters, no portkey, no Voldemort. He heard what at first sounded like a cat, but the sound became clearer and Harry recognized it as a baby crying. He tossed and turned, and in his dream he walked from headstone to headstone, looking behind each one to try and find the crying baby. He finally came upon a giant cauldron, and inside was a bundle of filthy rags. This was where the crying was coming from; the baby was wrapped in the rags. In the dream, Harry lifted the crying infant out of the cauldron and laid it on top of a low crypt. He unwrapped the rags, and uncovered a tiny flailing fist. Terrified that the baby might suffocate inside the wrappings, he hurried to free it. As he removed the wrapping from the baby's face, he stumbled back in horror, it was the same face as was hidden under Quirrell's turban. Harry woke with a start, sweat pouring down his face; his scar burning, and gasping for breath. He reached for his wand and illuminated the lantern on his bedside table. This was definitely not good. He heard Sirius snoring softly in the room next to his, and heard the soft crackle of the fire in the main fireplace. He thought of waking Sirius and telling him about the dream, but figured it could wait until morning, no sense in disturbing Sirius' sleep. Shaken and unable to get back to sleep, Harry sat on the edge of his bed and stared out the window at the flickering lights in the windows of the upper levels of the school castle, off in the distance. A fine snow started to fall, the snowflakes glinting in the moonlight. He sat and stared at the scene for nearly an hour before he felt well enough at ease to lie back down and try to sleep some more. The remainder of his sleep was mercifully dreamless. 


	46. Christmas Eve

Author's Notes: Christmas has arrived in Hogsmeade. A most fluffy chapter, with no action whatsoever.  
  
Extra chapters than usual this week. I've really been making time to work on the story, I very much want to finish it before the fifth book comes out in June. Not only because I'll be spending every free moment reading it, and reading it again, but it'll probably contain material that conflicts with my story so much that it just blows it away. So, Enjoy the extra chapters every week, and cross your fingers that the story doesn't become woefully "off-canon" the morning of June 21!  
  
If you enjoyed it, please drop a review and let me know, if not, that's fine, let me know too.  
  
Disclaimers: Nothing from the books or movies belongs to me.  
  
Chapter 46: Christmas Eve  
  
Harry slept in and awoke to the smell of spiced cider bubbling in a cauldron on the cookstove. Sirius had been up early, stringing their Christmas Cards over the mantle, and brewing up the cider. Not wanting to spoil the happy mood, Harry decided to wait and tell Sirius about the dream after Christmas was over. The two spent the morning decorating the Christmas tree and hanging garland around the cabin. Harry spent the afternoon wrapping gifts, which he would be bringing to Christmas Dinner at the Burrow. He and Sirius had been invited to spend the day with the Weasleys. Hermione would be dropping by as well, later on in the day.  
  
Mira and Maddie called a holiday truce and no mention was made of either the professor or Sirius Black. They worked through lunchtime, helping the last customers finish their holiday shopping. Several of the villagers dropped by and gave Mira and Maddie holiday candies and assorted baked goodies. The owl post brought a slew of Holiday cards from Albert's business contacts. A large box of French chocolates arrived from the textile trader Susan was trying to set Mira up with. She removed the card and tied it up with a fresh length of ribbon. At two, Mira closed the door, turned the sign, and handed Maddie her pay along with a small Christmas bonus. The young woman hugged Mira as she went to grab her cloak. With Maddie on her way home, Mira locked the door and went upstairs to pack for the weekend. After bathing and fussing with her hair, she packed her nice fur trimmed robe, and as an afterthought, tossed a gold mesh scarf in her bag. She packed light for the weekend. Her nice robe, a sleeping chemise, and a change of day-robes along with a few other odds and ends. On the way back downstairs, she grabbed a bunch of fresh holly and tucked it into her bag as well. The wall clock showed it to be just after five. She shouldered her large bag, fastened her cloak, picked up the box of chocolates and tucked it under her arm. Lastly, she picked up the box containing the professor's gift and headed out the door.  
  
When she arrived at the train station, there was a Hogwarts carriage waiting for her with her name written in fancy script on a sheet of parchment in the window. Mira deposited her belongings on the seat across from her and the carriage left the station for the short ride around the lake, to the school. The large gates opened to admit the carriage, and it followed the curving drive to the main entrance. The large doors opened, and two tiny house elves approached the carriage. One opened the door, and motioned for her to follow him.  
  
"If you come this way Missus, the headmaster and professor will be meeting you in the headmaster's office. Us house elves will make sure your things make it to your room before you get there."  
  
Mira followed the little elf down a long corridor to the elaborate moving staircase that led to the headmaster's office. She stepped onto the first step, and the elf snapped its fingers. The staircase started to rotate, lifting her to the headmaster's door. She had just raised her hand to knock when the door opened. Headmaster Dumbledore took her hand and showed her in.  
  
"Come in dear, warm yourself in front of the fire. The carriages don't have warming cauldrons in them I'm afraid, but at least the ride was short."  
  
Professor Snape rose from his seat in front of the fire, and Mira crossed the room to him. They started to embrace, and then remembered where they were. Mira nodded a greeting to him, and he took her hand and gave it a most proper and chaste kiss. Dumbledore smiled, his eyes twinkling. He put his hand on Mira's shoulder. She turned around to face him, and he handed her a brass key on a red ribbon.  
  
"Now, I'm sure you would like to see the guest quarters so that you can freshen up and get ready for the feast. Come. Let me show you where you'll be staying."  
  
She looked at the professor; he nodded to her, and motioned for her to go.  
  
"I'll be right there, go on ahead."  
  
Dumbledore took her arm and led her down the staircase and a little farther down the main corridor to a narrow intersecting corridor and turned off to the left. At the end of the short corridor was a wooden door, flanked by two torches.  
  
"Your quarters."  
  
Mira used the brass key and unlocked the heavy door. She entered and several wall lanterns and a small fireplace flared to life. She walked into a small sitting room with a pair of armchairs and tea table in front of the fireplace. Against the back wall was a small dining table that had a small Christmas tree on it. The two packages sat on the table, next to the tree. An archway led to a spacious bedroom that housed a large four- poster bed, hung with gold velvet draperies, a large carved armoire, and a small dressing table and stool. There was a smaller fireplace across from the bed, and two little doors, one on either side of the room. One was open; it led to a large and well-appointed bathroom with a bathtub the likes Mira had never seen before. It was larger than her bed at home, and had several gold taps running along one edge. There was a small fireplace in the bathroom, and the other plumbing fixtures were discreetly hidden behind an ornate pierced sandalwood screen. The other door was closed and locked, Mira assumed it to be a storage closet of some sort. The theme of the guest chambers was gold. Gilded lanterns hung from the ceilings, and there were gilded mirrors on the walls.  
  
"Oh Headmaster! It's incredible! I don't know what to say! Thank you for going to so much trouble for me."  
  
Dumbledore nodded at her with a warm smile.  
  
"No trouble at all, it's my pleasure to offer the school's hospitality to the friends and families of my staff. Consider Hogwarts your home for the next few days. If you should need anything, you may ring the brass bell on the fireplace mantel, it will summon the first available house-elf. I'm afraid I must make my way back to my office and prepare for the feast as well. Severus will be here shortly to answer any of your questions about the school and your accommodations. I will see the both of you at seven."  
  
Dumbledore turned to leave, and Mira remembered the box of chocolates.  
  
"Headmaster, wait! I almost forgot. I brought you something."  
  
She handed the old man the box of candy. His eyes sparkled and he gave her a very warm smile.  
  
"French chocolate? Why I must say that my reputation for having a bit of a sweet tooth must be universally known by now. How delightful, and thank you."  
  
Dumbledore left the guest chambers just as the professor arrived. He shut the door behind him, and Mira ran across the room to him.  
  
"This is incredible! I've never seen accommodations this luxurious, not even in the nicest hotels I've ever stayed in. Have you seen it yet?"  
  
"Yes, the headmaster gave me a quick tour before you arrived. I must say I'm impressed, it's nicer that my quarters down in the dungeons. You've got a larger bedchamber and a fancier bath."  
  
"I didn't want to seem stupid by asking, but how does that bathtub work? I've never seen so many taps before."  
  
"You want to take a bath before the feast? I don't think you have that much time Mira."  
  
"Oh no, all I have to do is change clothes and fix my hair and such. I was just curious."  
  
"There's not enough time now, but after the feast, I promise I'll show you how everything works here at Hogwarts. I also have something I want to give you, it's back in my quarters."  
  
"Oh, I brought something for you as well. It can wait too. You better hurry if you're going to make it all the way down to the dungeons to get ready, and then back up to walk me to the feast in less than an hour."  
  
"It's not as far as you'd think."  
  
"What do you mean? I thought the dungeons were in another wing of the building, and down several flights of stairs?"  
  
"Yes, but then again, no. Let me show you something."  
  
Professor Snape led Mira through the sitting room, and into the bedroom. He walked to the closed and locked door and held his hand out to her.  
  
"May I have the key?"  
  
Mira handed the professor the key Dumbledore had given to her and he unlocked the door. He opened it, to reveal a narrow short corridor with a few steps leading down to a small landing. At the base of the landing was another heavy wooden door.  
  
"Follow me and watch carefully."  
  
The professor approached the second door and then used his wand to trace an intricate symbol on it. A large bolt released, and the door creaked open on its hinges. The professor stepped back to reveal a dark room with gray stone floor and walls, which held a few pieces of ornate dark wood furnishings.  
  
"My chambers."  
  
Mira stepped through the doorway, and took in the sight. A similar large bed with dark green draperies, a massive, heavily carved armoire, and another little door leading to a bathroom. She could smell the professor's scent in the air. A musky, and vaguely spicy scent, with the pungent smell of the potions lab mixed in. It was certainly his chambers, that she was certain of.  
  
"Wow! Did you do that? Make that secret passage from chamber to chamber?"  
  
"Actually, that was Albus' doing. He mentioned something to me about a shortcut, and let me figure it out on my own. Of course, when a door appeared on my wall where none had previously existed, I knew exactly what he had done."  
  
"The headmaster did this? He connected our rooms? I'm shocked. I thought traditional wizarding folk were very Victorian in their sense of what is moral and proper."  
  
"You would be surprised at how close to the surface those Victorian values actually run. He's a grown man, he knows we're grown adults. Those affects of propriety are just that, affects. Putting on of airs, you could say."  
  
"So, you're telling me that underneath your buttoned-up exteriors, high- born witches and wizards are pretty wild behind closed doors?"  
  
"In a sense yes, but not in the way you're thinking. But enough of this fascinating discussion on wizarding cultural mores. We've got a little over a half hour left before we need to start making our way to the great hall. Go get changed into your dinner robe, I will fetch you shortly." Mira leaned in and kissed him on the cheek, and passed back through the secret passage into her quarters. 


	47. To Drive the Cold Winter Away

Author's Notes: Romance! For those who wanted to see some real romance, and not just sex, this chapter is for you. Forgive me for taking Professor Snape hopelessly "Out of Character". It wasn't me, honest.. It was the Loreena McKennitt CD I was listening to! Yeah, that's it, Loreena made me do it!  
  
Of course, there's sex too. Not as bodice-rippy as in past chapters though. (Well, it kinda has to be bodice rippy to not blast completely through R and out of the bounds of fanfiction.net) But you get your lemon- fix at the end of the chapter. And it's a pretty smutty little lemon drop at that. So, if such things disturb your gentle sensibilities, proceed with caution.  
  
(Once the story's complete and finished, I'll re-write the sex scenes, no holds barred, and post them on an adult appropriate forum.)  
  
No violence, no angst. A little humor here and there. Mostly holiday fluff and romance and sex! (I owe it to you for what's going to happen in the chapter where the Malfoys wreak their havoc.)  
  
Disclaimers: Nothing from the books or movies belongs to me. Although I freely lay claim to all the liberties I have taken with it.  
  
Chapter 47: To Drive the Cold Winter Away  
  
In her quarters, Mira found her clothing already hanging in the armoire and her personal items laid out on the dressing table. She changed into her fur-trimmed robe; and tucked the gold mesh scarf around her neck and under the neckline of the robe, like a partlet, for modesty. She pinned her hair back in a loose twist, catching several sprigs of the holly in the arrangement, letting a few curls hang freely around her face. She dabbed on a bit of perfume, and transferred a few of her necessities into a little matching fur trimmed pouch. For a festive touch, she hooked the little belled anklets from Tricia around her ankles before putting on her slippers. She had just sat down to wait for the professor, when she heard a knock at the front door.  
  
She rose and answered the door. It was the professor; he had taken the "long way" up from his dungeon quarters to escort her to the feast.  
  
"There were students and staff about in the corridors, I didn't think it would be proper for us to be seen leaving the same room. Even though Dumbledore made it easier for us to spend time together this weekend, we still must maintain a façade of propriety when around the students and staff."  
  
"I understand."  
  
"Then let us make our way to the feast, shall we?"  
  
The professor held his arm out for Mira, and escorted her down the main corridor to the great hall. Only a dozen or so students had stayed on during the holidays, and several members of the faculty were away visiting family. The large house tables were pushed away against the walls, and the head tables had been rearranged to accommodate the roughly two dozen people in attendance. There were several enormous Christmas trees, bedecked with beautiful ornaments, situated around the room. What seemed like miles of garland was strung just below the enchanted ceiling which showed the illusion of a clear, starry winter night. Hundreds of floating candles bobbed along in the air, illuminating the hall.  
  
Headmaster Dumbledore was seated in the center of the faculty side of the table, the students were taking their seats on the opposite side. Professor Snape directed Mira to a pair of empty seats, between Mr. Filch the caretaker, and Professor Sprout, the herbology teacher. He pushed in Mira's chair for her, before taking his own seat beside her. The students, and a few of the faculty members stole curious glances at the professor and his guest. Mira recognized Hagrid, the deputy headmistress, and the school nurse. The students and staff assembled, Dumbedore said a few words, and the feast began. Mira was amazed with the manner in which the food was served. Professor Snape had to explain to her that the house elves could magically transport the food up from the kitchens directly onto the tables. There were all manner of special holiday foods to choose from. Pitchers of spiced mead circulated among the faculty side of the table, the students had a choice between pitchers of pumpkin juice and bottles of butterbeer. The professor showed Mira how to cross her knife and fork across her plate when she was finished, and she watched in fascination as the dirty plate simply disappeared; a smaller one with clean utensils taking its place.  
  
When everybody had finished their meal, the platters, serving bowls, and tureens all disappeared. New platters with cakes, pies, and puddings appeared in their place, along with baskets of large colorful Christmas crackers. There was a cracker for everybody at the table, and through some unknown method, they all contained gifts appropriate for the receiver. Professor Snape and Mr. Filch were the only ones not getting into the spirit of pulling their crackers apart and enjoying the contents. Mira was seated next to Professor Sprout, and they helped open each other's crackers. Mira had a fancy little paper tiara, and Sprout had a bonnet shaped like a rosebud. They both had a selection of candies and other small trinkets as well as their hats. Mira found a pretty little compact mirror and a pomander that smelled of roses and violets among the tissue and streamers. The students and faculty remained at the table for some time, conversing and sharing holiday cheer. Mira had a pleasant conversation with Professor Sprout, who was enthralled with Mira's description of her tenant's rooftop herb garden back in New Orleans.  
  
As the night drew on, a few of the students started to yawn, feeling the effects of all the rich food and sugary desserts. A few of the adults started to yawn, feeling the effects of the pitchers of spiced mead. Dumbledore called the table to attention, and held a toast for both the house-elves who had provided such a fine meal, and the students and faculty who had decorated the hall. Following the toasts, he bid everybody a Happy Christmas, and a good night. The students and faculty slowly rose and made their way back down the corridor to their respective quarters. Professor Snape made a big show of walking Mira to her door to say good night. He leaned in to kiss her on the cheek and whispered in her ear that he would see her shortly.  
  
Mira deposited the trinkets from her Christmas cracker on the little table, next to the Christmas tree. She went into the bedroom, sat at the dressing table, and took the paper tiara and holly out of her hair. She undid the little ankle bracelets, and set them on the table next to the tiara. Mira was just getting ready to unpin and brush her hair when she heard a soft knock on the door to the secret passageway.  
  
"Come in! I left it unlocked."  
  
Mira rose to meet the professor, who had just closed the door behind him. He had already taken off his heavy formal robe, and was in his usual suit of clothes. He crossed the floor to the dressing table, and stood close behind her, his hands on her shoulders.  
  
"You've no idea how distracted I was by that robe you're wearing. If you think that scarf was modest, you're very much mistaken; all it did was serve to remind me of what was hidden beneath it."  
  
He grasped the edge of the scarf and gently pulled it free and tossed it onto the dressing table. He then leaned in very close to Mira to whisper in her ear. His breath on her neck caused an involuntary shiver.  
  
"And all I could do was pretend to be listening to Filch prattle on about that damned cat of his."  
  
He abruptly pulled away from her, and took her by the hand.  
  
"Come, let me show you how things work in here. I'm afraid I've been dispatched by Dumbledore to deliver hangover potions to a few of the faculty members who overindulged a little during the evening's festivities. Pomfrey doesn't keep any on hand in the infirmary; students aren't allowed anything stronger than butterbeer, and faculty members are expected to keep their indulgences in check. I have the only supply on the school grounds, in my private stores."  
  
He led her into the sitting area, and showed her the bell to ring for a house-elf. He explained that the house-elves could deliver food and drink at any hour to her chambers, as well as draw her bath for her, lay out her clothes for her, take her clothes to the laundry facilities, and deliver messages for her. He also showed her how to use the floo powder for fire- talking in the fireplace. And he explained that the only fireplace one could access the floo network from was in the headmaster's office, the fireplaces in faculty and guest chambers only allowed for fire-talking as a security measure. He took her back through the bedchamber and explained the bathtub taps to her. The first three were cool, warm, and hot water. The last three would deliver different types of bubbles and fragrant oils into the water.  
  
"Now, I trust you can manage on your own for a little while? I shan't be gone long, I don't intend to make these deliveries into social calls."  
  
He kissed her on the cheek before turning to leave.  
  
Mira shut the door to the little corridor between their chambers, and finished taking her hair down and brushing it out. She walked around the guest chamber, admiring the fine textiles and rich gilded decorations on the walls and furnishings. She pulled the rich velvet panels enclosing the bed aside, tying them open against the posts with thick tasseled satin ropes, and climbed up onto the large high bed. She noticed that the top panel of the heavy canopy frame was enchanted like the ceiling in the great hall; it gave the illusion of looking straight up to the stars. There was a plush velvet coverlet, a fluffy down duvet underneath, and a silky cream colored fur throw across the bottom half of the bed.  
  
"So, that's where the idea for the fur throw came from. They must be commonplace in a cold drafty place like this." She thought, remembering her amusement at the Persian rug's transfiguration into a fur throw.  
  
She climbed off the bed, fluffed the pillows, and walked into the bathroom. She noticed that there was a stack of fluffy white towels on a little table, as well as a small chair in one corner of the room. A large wall cabinet revealed stacks of different soaps, a stack of rolled up washcloths, and other assorted grooming and hygiene necessities. She closed the cabinet and walked over to the little fireplace. On the hearthstone was an ornate brass urn. She lifted the lid to find that it contained small pearls of a fragrant resinous substance. Mira took a handful and tossed them into the fire. The fire sparkled with red flame and started to emit a very exotic and pleasant fragrance. She inhaled deeply and sat in the comfortable little chair near the stack of towels. Curiosity got the better of her, so she knelt down in front of the bathtub, and tried the taps, one at a time. The first three were ordinary, delivering cool, warm, and hot water. The fourth delivered a stream of opalescent white bubbles that smelled sweet, like vanilla or coconut. The fifth delivered a stream of fragrant golden oil that smelled vaguely of a spice market. The sixth and final tap delivered a stream of large thick bubbles, that didn't really have a smell, but which seemed solid enough to support a person's body weight. She had to press one between her hands with a good amount of force to burst it.  
  
She heard a noise and looked over her shoulder. The professor was standing in the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest, watching her with a curiously amused expression on his face.  
  
"Playing with the plumbing Mira? If you think this bathroom is fancy, then you'd be amazed by the one used by the class prefects up on the fifth floor. That bathtub has a hundred taps. But then again; it's shared by eight students who all have their own preferences."  
  
Mira rose and dried her hands on one of the large fluffy towels.  
  
"So, are you through delivering hangover potions?"  
  
"Yes, anybody else who was too proud to request a preventative can just deal with the consequences come morning."  
  
She crossed the floor to where he was standing, and brushed past him into the bedchamber. On the bedside table sat a crystal pitcher and a pair of goblets. Mira picked up the pitcher and sniffed at the contents.  
  
"Spiced mead?"  
  
"Yes, I confiscated it from my two Slytherin students who are staying on at the school through the holidays. Somehow, the boys had managed to liberate it from the kitchens without getting caught by the house-elves. And of course I couldn't let it go to waste, now could I?"  
  
Mira poured a goblet full of the wine and handed it to the professor, and then poured another for herself.  
  
"Waste not, want not; that's what my grandmother always says."  
  
The professor took a drink and sat on the edge of the bed. He took Mira by the hand and pulled her closer to him.  
  
"Why don't you sit down beside me, I have something I want to give you."  
  
Mira set the goblet of wine back down on the little table.  
  
"Hold on, I've brought something for you as well, let me go get it from the sitting room"  
  
She retrieved the parcel from the sitting room, and handed it to the professor.  
  
"I hope you like it, I really didn't know what to get you, but I knew you could use this."  
  
He looked at the large box with a quizzical expression on his face, and opened it. He removed the cloak and held it up to take a closer look. A genuine smile worked its way onto his face as he stood up to try it on.  
  
"This is very nice, Mira. How did you know what size and how long it should be?"  
  
"Remember, your faculty robe came from the shop I work at, your measurements were on file."  
  
He clasped and unclasped the snake-shaped pewter fastener.  
  
"Very clever. I must say; I've never had a cloak this nice. Thank you."  
  
Mira watched him turn and admire it in the dressing table mirror. It did suit him very well. The cloak was fitted to his shoulders, and then flared out into a dramatic sweeping circular hemline, which touched the tops of his shoes in front and just barely skimmed over the floor in the back.  
  
He took the cloak off, and draped it across the bench at the foot of the bed. He sat down on the edge of the bed, and motioned for Mira to sit beside him. He pulled the little black velvet box out of his jacket pocket. Before he handed it to Mira, he turned to her and took her hand.  
  
"I just want you to know that not a day goes by that I don't thank The Fates for bringing you into my life. Without you, I wouldn't be here. And it's more than just a wizarding life-debt I owe you. You saved my body, my mind, and my spirit; when I was ready to let go of all three."  
  
Mira took the box, untied the silky green ribbon, and opened it carefully. Cradled in a plush velvet nest, was a large gold brooch. It was oval shaped, with an enormous and completely flawless diamond set in the center. Encircling the stone was a band of gold, carved with a phrase in Cyrillic letters.  
  
"It belonged to my mother. It was one of the few pieces of her jewelry that wasn't lost during or after the battle at my home. She had it and a handful of her other favorite pieces safely tucked away in the vault at Gringott's. It goes back well over a hundred years to my great, great grandmother. Her family found their fortune in the gem mines of Siberia. When her daughter married my great grandfather in England, this finest diamond of their mines was presented to him as her dowry. On their first anniversary, he presented it back to his bride, set in this brooch. It's been passed down through the family ever since. It was supposed to go to my sister in law, but that wasn't to be. I remembered it was in the vault, and I wanted you to have it."  
  
"What's the translation of the inscription? I'm afraid that I can't read the Cyrillic alphabet."  
  
"Not the Gift is Dear, Love is Dear."  
  
He took brooch out of its box, pinned it onto the green ribbon, and handed it to Mira. She noticed that there was an inscription on the back as well. The back mounting was inscribed with four words in Cyrillic letters.  
  
"What does it say on the back?"  
  
"Those are the names of the women who have owned it. My great grandmother, Cyzerine. My grandmother, Thasha. My mother, Sabina. And now you, Mirabelle."  
  
Mira climbed further onto the bed, and rested her head on his chest, the brooch in her hand.  
  
"I don't know what to say. It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. Are you sure you want me to have this? It's an important piece of your family history."  
  
"I'm sure. My family is my past. You're my present and future."  
  
He took the brooch from her and tied the ribbon around her neck, like a choker.  
  
"You do it complete justice, you should go look."  
  
Mira reached up and felt the heavy stone around her neck. She climbed off the bed and went to the dressing table to see it in the mirror. The light of the lamps caught the facets of the stone, and it shone with the brilliance and fire only seen in flawless or near flawless diamonds. It seemed to shine from within with an ethereal glow. Mentally, she calculated the worth of the stone. It was as large as her thumbprint, and in muggle terms, was probably worth more than the building she owned in New Orleans. She thought of the inscription on the gold bezel that held the stone: Not The Gift is Dear, Love is Dear.  
  
She stood in front of the mirror; her eyes transfixed on the reflection of the stone, her mind reeling with the significance of it. "What were the other women who wore this brooch like? Is this how they felt when they were presented with it?" Mira inwardly pondered.  
  
Professor Snape rose from the edge of the bed, and walked to the dressing table. He stood behind her, and wrapped his arms tightly around her waist. He bowed his head and brushed his cheek over the soft fur trimming the neckline of Mira's robe. He slid his cheek up the side of her face, until his lips were even with the back of her ear.  
  
"I promised you that night after we went flying that if there were any other way, it would be a beginning for us. I meant every word of it then, I mean every word of it now."  
  
He kissed her on the side of the neck, causing Mira's body to tense up. He lifted her hair with one hand, and traced his lips around to the nape of her neck, following her hairline. She shuddered and inhaled sharply. He started to unzip the back of her robe with his free hand, while working his way back around to her ear with his lips. He let go of her hair, and pushed the robe forward, off her shoulders, and down her arms. Mira freed her arms from the sleeves of the robe, and turned to face him. She took his face in her hands, and kissed him gently. He pushed the robe down over her hips, and it fell in heavy folds on the floor. Mira wore a corset and pair of old fashioned petti-shorts under her robe  
  
She stepped out from the robe and her slippers. Taking him by the hand, she led the professor back over to the bed. Mira sat on the edge of the bed, and slowly unbuttoned the closures on his jacket, one at a time. The jacket undone and on the floor, Mira drew her legs up, and peeled off her stockings; tossing them in the pile of clothes, along with her garters. The professor stepped forward between her knees, and started undoing the laces on the front of her corset. The corset unlaced, he set it on the ground next to the bed. Mira turned and threw the covers back, and leaned back against the pile of pillows at the headboard.  
  
The professor used his wand to extinguish all the lamps, and quickly removed the rest of his clothes before crawling onto the bed above her. He leaned in her and kissed her passionately, hands roaming across her body. He kissed her throat and worked his way down to her breasts, while backing down towards the foot of the bed. Mira moaned softly and slid down farther into the nest of downy pillows. She wrapped her thighs around his waist, twisted her torso to meet his lips. He slid farther down the bed, trailing gentle bites and kisses from between her breasts to the waistband of her lacy little shorts.  
  
He untied the bow at the waistband of the shorts and slowly pulled them off of her. He felt her body tense as he kissed her stomach, tongue darting into her navel, and tracing a tight circle around it. He continued working his way over and past the rounded swell of her stomach. She arched her hips up to meet his mouth, and gasped loudly as his tongue found the nexus of her pleasure. She threw her head back on the pillows and lost herself in the illusion of stars twinkling in the inky black sky above her. The tense build-up of pleasure and the maddening sensation of his long hair brushing her thighs had her gripping the sheets, white-knuckled, her entire being straining towards release.  
  
Just as she reached the first waves of climax, he pulled himself up and entered her forcefully. Mira's mind and body exploded in white-hot sensory overload as she cried out. Every thrust brought her another wave of pleasure until she was in a state of complete ecstasy. With a low growling noise, he reached his own climax and collapsed, panting, onto her chest.  
  
After catching his breath, he moved next to her, and pulled her into his arms. She brushed a stray lock of hair off of his face, and kissed him softly, tasting a hint of her own salty musk on his lips. Mira pulled the blanket up over them and rested her head against his chest. They lay together silently, watching the stars through the enchanted canopy, until they drifted off to sleep. 


	48. A Bittersweet Holiday

Author's Notes: A little holiday angst, with foreboding of things to come. Christmas at the Weasley house, and Harry shares a flashback of the wizarding war with Ron.  
  
Disclaimer: Nothing from the books or movies belongs to me  
  
Chapter 48: A Bittersweet Holiday  
  
Mira woke to the gray light of a cloudy winter morning overhead. She found herself alone in the large bed with the blankets tucked up around her shoulders. Tying to get her bearings, she sat up and looked around the chamber. The fire had burned down to embers, and her clothes were gone off of the floor. The pitcher and goblets were gone from the bedside table; and in their place was her wand, the brooch that the professor had given her, and a slip of parchment.  
  
The parchment was a note from the professor. He wanted to let her know that he had risen early and was going to check on his two students and decide on a suitable punishment for their sneaking the wine from the school kitchens. When he returned from the dormitory, he would be in his office; taking stock of his supply cabinets, and working on his spring term lesson plan. He would leave the doors of the magical short-cut open for her to join him at her leisure.  
  
Mira noticed the door to the passageway was wide open, and she could see torchlight flickering on the other side. She got up and found her day-robe and the appropriate undergarments laid out on the bench in front of the bed. The items on her dressing table were neatly organized as well. It took her a moment to realize that the house-elves had been in to straighten up.  
  
She felt a little odd, and a slight bit embarrassed. Had the house elves been in while the professor was still there? Had they noticed that she wasn't alone in her bed? Did they even care? She picked up her wand from bedside table, gathered her clothes from the bench, and carried them into the bathroom. She set the clothes on the chair, and used her wand to start a fire in the fireplace. She grabbed a washcloth and bar of soap from the cabinet, and drew her bath. Soon the room was filled with thickly fragranced steam. After her bath, she dressed in her brown day-robe and sat down at the dressing table to brush and pin up her hair. She fetched the brooch from the bedside table, to put it away in her handbag. But on second thought, she tied the ribbon loosely around her neck and tucked the jewel under the front of her robe.  
  
Mira walked through the little passageway, into Professor Snape's private chambers. She had caught a glimpse of his bedchamber the previous evening; but just then realized how cold, damp, and dark the dungeons really were. His personal space was as austere as his personality. Dark heavy wood furnishings, precisely and elaborately carved, with not so much as a pillow out of place. No photographs, no personal effects on the bedside table. She wondered if these were even his things or were they simply provided to him by Dumbledore. She moved into his sitting room, and it was more of the same, except for a little cabinet of books and magical objects. Other than that one cabinet and family crest, it could have been a staged room or a display of sorts. A small archway in the stone wall led to his office and the smaller lab which he used for his personal work, as well as for working with his advanced potions students.  
  
Mira stood in the doorway, taking in the sight. It was a low, dark room with stone floors, wall, and ceiling. Black iron torches lined the walls, and illuminated the cabinets that contained all manner of casks, jars, and bottles of exotic and bizarre ingredients and even more bizarre laboratory equipment. In the back of the room, to the side of the archway, sat a desk. To the other side of the archway sat a large, high workbench. A pair of long shorter workbenches faced the larger one. She shuddered to herself, unsure of whether from the cold dampness of the dungeon chambers, or the creepy atmosphere that looked everything like something out of an old muggle horror movie.  
  
Across from the archway, was another door, a heavy wooden door with iron straps and hinges, which stood halfway open. Mira heard the sounds of activity coming from the other side of the door. What sounded like glass bottles clinking gently against each other. She walked past the professor's desk and workbench to the other door. She peeked through the opening, and watched him for a moment. He had his back to her, and was standing in front of a very large shelving unit, counting empty glass lab vessels, and making notes on a large scroll of parchment.  
  
He moved with a deliberate efficiency, quickly counting the rows of different pieces of equipment, occasionally pulling something off a shelf to take a closer look. Mira thought of how rarely he opened up and came out of his shell. Virtually all people who had ever come to know him knew only the man standing in front of the shelf of lab equipment, efficiently taking inventory with a furrowed brow and slight scowl on his face. Like Susan and Lucy; all they knew of him was his surly demeanor, his unkempt hair, his unadorned manner of dress, and his history of questionable dealings with You-Know-Who. Would they even care to know that there was so much more to this man? Obviously Susan couldn't care less how valiantly he had fought in the battles, how much of himself he had sacrificed in loyalty to Dumbledore, and how he possessed a fine intelligent mind and an exquisite talent for potions that elevated the science to an art. She felt very sad that only a handful of people ever bothered to look past the surface.  
  
Her grandmother had seen beneath the surface. She had pulled Mira aside when she was packing her things, after having had her memories restored. Eloise sat her granddaughter down and told her that she had given the professor her blessings and was very pleased with their match.  
  
"Mirabelle, my child. This is a man who would leap headlong into the abyss for you, and not for a second look back with questioning or regrets. He has his flaws, he has his problems, there is no questioning that. But, he is ultimately a man of intense loyalty and burning passions. I am very much sorry that I cannot say the same of your cousin's Albert. Don't misunderstand my meaning though. Albert loves Susan, of that I am most sure. And all things being considered, they will have a comfortable life. But, they can never have what you and this professor have. This love which you have, comes along no more than once in a lifetime. Some never find it, others let it slip through their hands. Do not take it for granted, cherie, or you will regret it the rest of your life."  
  
Mira reached up and felt the brooch under her robe. She thought of what a very wise woman Eloise was and how true her words were. Mira knocked softly on the door, so as not to startle the professor. He quickly turned, and realizing who was at the door, softened his expression.  
  
"I was about to come wake you. You missed breakfast. I made your excuses to Dumbledore, I told him that you had been overwhelmed by the evening's activities and were sleeping in."  
  
Mira crossed the classroom to where the professor was standing, and gave him a kiss. He tucked a stray curl behind her ear and smirked at her.  
  
"Of course, I didn't tell him that it was the after-hours activities that left you so, shall I say.. spent?"  
  
She gave him a playful shove, and he pulled her back against his chest. He looked down and saw the edge of the green ribbon the brooch was pinned to peeking out under the neckline of her robe, and smiled.  
  
"Are you still sad that you missed Christmas Eve with Eloise in Calais?"  
  
"No. I wouldn't want to be anywhere else today."  
  
"I'm afraid that I don't have anything planned. I need to get the classroom inventory taken, but it can wait another day. We can go into Hogsmeade or Diagon Alley if you wish. Or, I can give you a tour of the school, if you're really interested."  
  
"I'm okay with staying right here. I can help you with your inventory."  
  
"It's a holiday, you shouldn't have to spend it helping me with my work."  
  
"Honestly, I don't mind. I've always been curious about what you teach, and I'm really just enjoying the change of pace this weekend."  
  
"Very well then. Here's the inventory list, here's a quill. You will call out the next item on the list, and I shall give you a count or quantity, and you will write it down."  
  
"Okay, ready when you are."  
  
Mira sat on top of one of the student tables in the back of the classroom, and took notes as the professor counted the supplies and pieces of equipment in the large student supply cabinet. Some of the items were recognizable. Cauldrons, stirring paddles, vials, and casks were all fairly common in every wizarding household. Many of the ingredients sounded positively vile though, and Mira wrinkled up her nose at the thought of a jar containing twelve ounces of pulverized garden slugs. As they neared the end of the inventory list, she was very grateful that she had not gone to wizarding school and been made to study potions.  
  
Whereas Christmas morning got off to a lazy and mundane start in the Potions wing of the Hogwarts dungeons, Christmas morning at the Millwright's Cabin was a time of excitement and activity.  
  
Harry woke to find the little Christmas tree enchanted with dozens of twinkling points of light. The Wizarding Wireless was on, and playing carols and the music of the enchanted bell choir. Sirius was already awake, and getting ready for their trip to the Burrow. They had plans to spend Christmas with the Weasleys. Harry saw Hedwig perched on the water wheel, and opened his bedroom window for her. The snowy owl flew soundlessly into the boy's room and landed on his bedpost, flapping her wings. Harry closed the window, and opened Hedwig's cage, so that she could climb onto her perch, and get a good day's sleep.  
  
Sirius finished up in the bathroom and poked his head into the open door of Harry's bedroom.  
  
"Harry, you better hurry up and get ready, Molly told me to have us there no later than eleven."  
  
Harry readied himself and gathered up the presents he had bought for Hermione, Ron, and the other Weasleys. He had exchanged gifts with Sirius on Christmas Eve. He had given Sirius some assorted candy from Honeyduke's. Never having exchanged gifts with a grown-up before, he really wasn't sure what to get. But, Sirius was very pleased with his treats. Harry's gift was a complete quidditch practice set, so that he and Ron could practice together during the holidays. At the appointed hour, Sirius and Harry took the floo network to the Weasley home, where Molly was bustling around in the kitchen, trying to maintain control over several enchanted self-heating cooking pots at once. Clever items for the lady of a large family, the self-heating cook pots heated only from the inside and could cook literally on the dining table without scorching the wood underneath.  
  
Ron and his twin brothers were outside having a snowball war. The elder Weasley brothers were inside the house, having a heated discussion on Ministry politics with their father. Ginny and Hermione were up in Ginny's room. Ginny had received a portable wizarding wireless and they were listening to music and gossiping about how clueless boys were. Hermione was miffed over Ron's indifferent reaction to her gift to him. He had thanked her for the books and grabbed the candy sticks and ran back outside with his brothers. When Harry and Sirius arrived, the boys came in from outside and the girls came downstairs to wish them a Happy Christmas. Gifts were exchanged all around. Harry received an entire bag of joke items from the Weasley twins, some wizarding comic books from Ron, and a new knitted jumper from Mrs. Weasley. Hermione had brought him a portable wizard chess set with a smart leather case.  
  
Molly called Ginny to come help her in the kitchen, and the three friends went up to Ron's room to catch up with each other. They talked about going to Diagon Alley together the following week, but Hermione mentioned she would not be free on Mondays and Wednesdays. Realizing that she had said more than she intended, she had to explain to them about her tutoring assignment. Harry was proud of her for being chosen over any of the seventh year students, but Ron did not share Harry's enthusiasm.  
  
"What? I don't believe this Hermione! I mean, Snape couldn't be any more of a bastard to us if he tried, and you're doing a favor for him? Hermione, you're clever enough that you don't have to kiss the greasy prick's ass to make good marks in Potions. And I don't like the idea of you spending time with that woman of his. She's not a good influence on you. She dresses like a tart, she flirts with men, and she and Snape are doing you know what, and they're not even engaged to each other! I'm telling you, she's a scarlet woman and I don't think you should have any part of this."  
  
"Ron! Listen to yourself! You're being as stuck-up and prejudiced as Malfoy now. I've met her more than once, and she's a nice lady. She even invited me to come along when she takes Tricia shopping in muggle London next week. And, I'm not doing this for Professor Snape, I'm doing this because tutoring would look very good on my school transcript when it comes time to apply to university."  
  
"Fine, it's your reputation at stake from hanging around with scarlet women who consort with former Death Eaters. Just don't come crying to me when she accidentally hexes you during one of your tutoring sessions."  
  
"Ron, sometimes you can be so thick! I've had enough of this conversation, I'm going to go see how I can help your mother and Ginny get the meal on the table."  
  
Hermione got up and flounced out the door. Ron shrugged his shoulders and turned to Harry.  
  
"Bloody women! They're all mental!"  
  
"Ron, actually I think it's a great idea for Hermione to tutor Professor Snape's girlfriend. I mean, she is right about it looking good on her transcript and university applications. And she really does mean well. You should lay off of her, she doesn't exactly have it easy, trying to fit in and all."  
  
"Yeah, well, honestly I wonder sometimes just how well she really wants to fit in. I mean, she could be really popular if she'd just lay off the clever girl bit a little."  
  
"What's up with you and Hermione anyway? You've not been exactly a happy couple recently."  
  
"It's just that I gave her those hair combs and she won't wear them. Says they're too fancy and people looking at them makes her self-conscious. Bloody Hell Harry, I didn't blow that kind of money for them to just sit in her jewel case. And she gave me a stack of books. A stack of books Harry!"  
  
"You need to take it easy on her Ron. She hasn't had an easy time the past year. She had to leave the wizarding world when the death threats went out against muggle borns. Imagine how she feels. Knowing that there were people who wanted her dead, simply because her parents are muggles."  
  
"Yeah, well that's all water under the bridge Harry. You-Know-Who is gone, and she has nothing to worry about."  
  
Harry bit his lip and looked down at his lap, picking at a stray thread on his trousers, shaking his head.  
  
"Harry? You know it's all over, right? The battle at Hogwarts was the end of it, you were there, you saw it all."  
  
"I know Ron. It's just that I remember the battle like I was watching it from another place. I know that the professors had us all go down into the dungeons and wait it out. But at the very end, people started swarming out of the castle and into the mayhem. I got caught up in it, and I knew I should have just stayed in the dungeons, but I had to go. Something was telling me to go, to face him on the battlefield. Not a voice in my head, but I felt that I had to be there no matter what. I didn't know where I was going, I remember pushing past the crowds, even stepping over bodies and injured people. Something was drawing me to it, and I think it was You- Know-Who wanting to have some kind of final confrontation with me. It wasn't supposed to be that way Ron. I was supposed to grow up, become a full-fledged wizard, and meet Voldemort head to head. I don't know how I knew that, but I just did. And I saw you fall, and I thought you were dead. I honestly didn't know you had just been stunned. I wanted to stop and help you, but something just pulled me on to the center of the battle. McGonagall tried to push me away, back from the front line, but Dumbledore told her no, that I had the right to be there. She said that I did not, I was not of age yet and I didn't belong there. He gave her a stern look and told her that I was already there and by then it was time for the final blast of spells that took Voldemort and the last two Death Eaters down. It was like somebody was moving for me, like I was under the Imperius curse, but not. Ron, what if he's not really gone for good? What if he's out there, waiting for another chance?"  
  
"No, you heard Dumbledore, there was nothing left of him, just scorched Earth where he stood. He's gone Harry."  
  
Harry crossed his arms over his chest and looked at his feet.  
  
"Ron, I'm not sure if this means anything, but I had a really bad dream the other night, and my scar started to hurt. I didn't want to talk to you with Hermione in the room, she always makes such a big deal out of these things."  
  
"What kind of dream Harry?"  
  
"About You-Know-Who."  
  
Harry leaned in closer to Ron and described the dream to him. Ron's eyes got large and his face a little pale.  
  
"Harry, maybe you should tell somebody else about this, like Sirius or Dumbledore. That sounds like the kinds of dreams you had back when You- Know-Who was alive. You may be ill or something."  
  
"I'll talk to Sirius tomorrow, I didn't want to ruin Christmas and get him all worked up. I just know he's going to drag me to the school and make me tell Dumbledore, and everybody will think I've gone mad or something."  
  
"I dunno Harry. I'd tell Sirius if I were you."  
  
"Yeah, sure. I'll tell him after Christmas is over."  
  
There was a knock on Ron's bedroom door. Ginny had come to let them know that Christmas luncheon was served. The boys bounded right past her, down the stairs to the table. With the entire Weasley family plus three guests, the table was filled to capacity. After the meal, the family and guests drifted back off into small groups to chat and play various games. When the day was drawing to a close, the three friends made plans to meet back at the Burrow on New Year's Day, and to take a trip together into Diagon Alley the week before the spring term started.  
  
After saying their goodbyes, Harry and Sirius took the floo back to their cabin. Loaded with packages of leftover food and various gifts, they wearily stumbled out of the fireplace and spent the rest of Christmas talking about New Year's Eve plans and the various gifts they had received. When he was getting ready for bed, Harry decided that things were going so well for he and Sirius, that there was no need to alarm him and get him upset over the dream. If he had another one, he'd talk to somebody about it. But for now, it was probably just a random memory working its way through Harry's subconscious. 


	49. Jealousy

Author's Note: Not a lot of action, just an extension of Christmas at Hogwarts. A little angsty towards the end. Some slightly disturbing sex; a bitter lemon if you will. "The Jealous Bring Down The Curse They Fear Upon Their Own Heads". Dorothy Dix.  
  
Sorry only two chapters this week, no inspiration to write much. Much more plot-wise coming though.  
  
Disclaimer: Nothing from the books or movies belongs to me.  
  
Chapter 49: Jealousy  
  
After helping Professor Snape take inventory of the Potions classroom supply stores, Mira accepted an invitation to take tea with Professor Sprout, who was still very interested in Mira's herbalist friend and her rooftop garden back in New Orleans. They sat in Sprout's private conservatory, sipping fragrant tea, discussing the French Market, and how the old women vending there sold to both magical and muggle alike. Following tea, Sprout gave Mira a tour of the Hogwarts greenhouses; which were lush with greenery, even during the cold winter months. Mira confessed that she had not even managed to successfully raise flowers in a window box, much less maintain an actual garden there in Hogsmeade. All of the plants in her New Orleans courtyard were established old growth in enormous clay pots. Small trees, shrubberies with fragrant blooms, and roses, which trailed up onto wrought iron wall trellises. The clay pots were pretty much self-maintaining. From time to time, they required a little watering, but not much more. And Mira could count on her tenant and friend, Maggie, to keep an eye on them for her.  
  
The day growing long, Mira thanked the Herbology professor for tea and promised to send her cuttings from Maggie's garden the next time she was in New Orleans. She made her way back to her guest quarters; using the little parchment map that Dumbledore had given her. The passageway door was still open, and Mira crossed over to the dungeons, where she found professor Snape working at his desk in the small laboratory and office adjoining his private chambers. He looked up at Mira with a slight smirk on his face.  
  
"You've been gone an awfully long time. Did Sprout corner you and drag you through those suffocatingly hot greenhouses; and then talk your ear off about the subtle but oh so fascinating difference between catnip and catmint?"  
  
Mira pushed some scrolls out of the way and sat on the edge of the professor's desk.  
  
"Actually, she and I spent most of the time just chatting in her conservatory. We had a lovely tea together. You're right, she is a bit dotty over her plants, but she's still cute as a button."  
  
Snape made a sarcastic snorting noise, gathered up the scrolls Mira had moved, and deposited them in his desk drawer.  
  
"If you had to listen to her prattle on about her infernal plants every time you had any kind of professional contact with her; you would not find her cute as a button, but rather annoying."  
  
Mira cocked her head to the side in contemplation, and then shook it affirmatively.  
  
"Yeah, you're right. I can see how she could get annoying."  
  
"I was beginning to wonder if I would have to send the house-elves out looking for you. Dumbledore has specifically requested both of us to come down to the dining room this evening. Apparently he wants to have a little after-dinner chat with you. Regarding what? I have no idea. So, you have a little more than an hour to get freshened up if you need it."  
  
"I'm fine as I am."  
  
"Very well then, we have just over an hour to kill. Would you like to play a game of wizarding chess? Or help me bottle up a batch of marsh toad entrails?"  
  
"Ummm. I've never played wizard chess, and what the hell is the matter with you? Suggesting that we muck about with animal guts before a meal!"  
  
"Amphibian. Toads are amphibians."  
  
"Whatever, they're still animals aren't they? And stuffing their entrails in a bottle is not the way I would like to spend the hour before I eat!"  
  
"Pardon me! I forget; the lady has never sullied her dainty hands with the less than savory substances found in a potions laboratory. If it would please milady, could I interest you in a nice game of croquet out on the front lawn? Or maybe we can sit before the fire and work on needlepoint? Hmmm?"  
  
Snape gave Mira a look that was literally dripping with condescending sarcasm. She leaned over and playfully shoved him with her shoulder.  
  
"You asshole! Hey, how about giving me a tour of the school? Or at least as much as we can see and still make it to the dining room in an hour?"  
  
"Very well, whatever milady desires, is my humble pleasure to provide."  
  
He rose from behind his desk, and with a flourish held out his arm for Mira. She took it and they walked back through his bedchamber, so that he could seal the magical passageway from her guest quarters. After completely sealing his quarters with magical wards, he led her out of the Potions suite and locked the classroom door behind them.  
  
The first stop was the Slytherin dormitory and common room, located behind a hidden doorway. Snape swept into the common room, and interrupted a game of exploding snap being played by the two young men who had stayed on over the holidays.  
  
"Crabbe, Goyle!"  
  
The boys jumped up off of their chairs and stood shoulder to shoulder, as if at attention.  
  
"This is Ms. DelMare. She will be my guest at the school from time to time, and when you see her in the corridors, I expect you to fall over yourselves to assist her in finding her way. Understood?"  
  
The boys nodded their heads, a solemn look on their face.  
  
"I'm sorry? I didn't quite hear that?"  
  
"Yes Professor!"  
  
"Very well. As you were."  
  
The boys hesitantly returned to their seats, keeping a wary eye on their household head. Snape walked Mira around the Slytherin common room, pointing out the house crest on the wall and the portrait of the house founder, Salazar Slytherin. On their way out of the room, he turned, cleared his throat loudly and pointed to a scattered pile of Christmas debris. Wadded up wrapping paper and tissue, empty boxes, and discarded ribbon littered the area between the large sofas and in front of the Christmas tree.  
  
"And do something about this God-awful mess before you go to bed this evening. You should know better than to dirty up the common room and leave it for the house elves."  
  
He led Mira out of the dormitory to the sound of the boys hastily gathering up the trash and grumbling under their breath. Mira looked over and detected a definite twinkle in the professor's eyes. He relished in lording it over his students. She snickered to herself, and he looked over at her with eyebrows raised.  
  
"What? What do you find so amusing?"  
  
"You. The way those boys snapped to attention like you're a drill sergeant. No wonder the students all swear about you behind your back. You absolutely adore being the hard-ass teacher, don't you?"  
  
"Better than the old softie that allows his students to walk all over him. I'm not sure if you quite understand my job as household head. I am not merely these students' professor or academic advisor. I'm their parenting figure while they are here at Hogwarts. It is my duty to make sure that they not only receive a proper education in Potions, but also to ensure that the Slytherins, at least, don't run amok like a pack of wild beasts. They know that if they shame themselves with misbehavior, they shame me. And I do not take kindly to being made the fool. I expect no more of them than their parents would at home. You must try and understand Mira; most people chosen to be in Slytherin come from very established old wizarding families, who cling tightly to the old ways, and who have certain societal obligations. Most of my students are from aristocratic families. No doubt their families have told them about my fall from grace and how I wound up going from younger son of one of the most prominent wizarding families in England to a lowly teacher at Hogwarts. If I so much as gave them a fraction of an inch, they would believe themselves superior to me and run with it. From day one, I establish that I am the one in charge, in a manner which they do not forget. If that means that I must be the hard-ass teacher, then so be it."  
  
The professor gripped her arm and stepped up the pace, climbing the stairs from the dungeons to the main corridor. He led Mira past several classrooms, pointed out the quidditch pitch from the window, and led her to the library for a quick browse, and then down to the smaller informal dining room where dinner was to be served.  
  
They arrived early for dinner, and found a group of three students sitting and chatting, along with the deputy headmistress chatting with the school nurse. The students looked up warily but offered no greetings to Mira and the professor. McGonagall and Pomfrey nodded to them and returned to their conversation. Slowly the other students and faculty joined the table. Dumbledore arrived last, and took his seat at the head of the table. Before he sat, he made a few announcements.  
  
"I would like to wish a Happy Christmas to all of my students, professors, faculty, and their guests. The tradition, here at Hogwarts is to celebrate the Holidays on Christmas Eve, with a special feast. However, with the house-elves doing what they do best, which is overcooking on an outlandish scale, we will be enjoying a scaled down repeat of the feast this evening. Enjoy!"  
  
The tables again filled with all manner of wonderful delicacies. The meal was festive but very much informal. Afterwards, when the students and faculty drifted back to their various dormitories and chambers, Headmaster Dumbledore bid Mira and Professor Snape to remain at the table. He beckoned them to the two seats flanking his seat at the head of the table, so that they could talk without having to shout over the large dining table.  
  
"Well, Mirabelle my dear, what did you think about Christmas at Hogwarts? "  
  
"It was lovely headmaster, thank you for being so generous as to have me this weekend."  
  
"Think nothing of it, it is my pleasure to extend the hospitality of the school to those my family here holds dear. Will you be leaving early in the morning? Or will you be staying on to the end of the weekend?"  
  
"I'm afraid I can't stay all day tomorrow. I've got to get back to Hogsmeade and take care of some shop business. I also have to study a little, I'm having a tutoring session in transfiguration tomorrow."  
  
"So I've heard. Miss Granger is going to be tutoring you during the holidays and on weekends. You're a lucky woman. She's a bright girl and very even tempered. You should do very well with her tutelage. I also hear that you will be joining us at the Twelfth Night Ball. Has somebody explained to you about formal wizarding balls? How you should dress, what you can expect?"  
  
"Yes, my cousin has attended formal balls before, and sent me magazine and newspaper clippings with photos of fancy dress robes appropriate for masquerades. I've got plans for something for us to wear, but I'm afraid that it won't be on a par with the best-dressed list published in Witch Weekly."  
  
"Pay no mind my dear. Only a fraction of the attendees are dressed in a manner that attracts the cameras. Why, I have never had my photograph published on a best-dressed list, and I have attended exactly eighty-seven of these formal wizarding balls. You are invited for the value of your company, not the value of the robes upon your back."  
  
Dumbledore stood and turned to both Mira and the professor.  
  
"That being said, I am afraid I must retire to my office and begin the daunting task of writing thank-you notes. It was a pleasure seeing you again Mirabelle, I look forward to seeing you again at the ball."  
  
Dumbledore rose and exited the dining room through a small nearly hidden door in the back corner of the room. Professor Snape rose, and held out his hand for Mira.  
  
"Well then, the night is still young. Shall we continue your tour of Hogwarts?"  
  
"Sounds good to me, what all else is there to see?"  
  
"Seeing as you are only here until tomorrow afternoon, just a few especially interesting places. It would take you several weeks to see every part of the castle and grounds I'm afraid."  
  
They walked on through the corridors, up and down staircases that moved, and past paintings that spoke to them. Mira was utterly fascinated with the school, and started to regret not ever having gone to wizarding school herself. The last stop of the evening was in the top level of the Astronomy tower. With the former professor banned from teaching after being uncovered as a Voldemort sympathizer, the tower remained vacant through the Holidays. The interim professor had a family and lived just outside of Hogsmeade. He went home in the evenings and for weekends and holidays. Mira followed the professor up a long winding staircase, to the tallest turret of the school.  
  
Professor Snape took out his wand and pointed it at the ceiling.  
  
"Acclare Lacunaris!"  
  
The ceiling shimmered briefly and dissolved away to transparency. Like the ceilings of the great hall and the canopy panel of Mira's guest-bed, the tall pointed ceiling of the Astronomy tower was enchanted to show the night sky.  
  
"It's beautiful."  
  
"Sometimes at night, when I can't sleep and it starts to feel a little claustrophobic down in the dungeons, I come up here and look at the stars. And on occasion, when it's a warm summer night, I climb up onto the roof observatory to get an even closer look at them."  
  
"I didn't know you dabbled in Astronomy."  
  
"I don't. I just like to look at the stars. The illusion will wear off on its' own before sunrise. It's nearing curfew, and I need to check in on my students. Tomorrow they will be serving detention; removing and bottling the toad entrails which you so vehemently disapproved of. Come, let's get you back to your quarters."  
  
He took Mira by the hand and led her back down the spiral staircase, and then down the corridors and stairs to her chambers. A quick look around showed not even a ghost patrolling the halls, so the professor entered with Mira, to take the short cut to the Potions dungeon.  
  
"This won't take long, I should be back well within the hour."  
  
He gave Mira a kiss on the forehead and passed through the magical passageway into his chambers. She decided that she definitely had time for one last luxurious soak in the extravagant bathtub. She found her night- robe laid out for her on the bench at the foot of the bed and carried it into the bathroom. Mira turned on the taps, and while the enormous tub was filling up, she tossed a generous handful of the resin pearls into the fireplace and ignited the fire with her wand. She gathered up a couple of towels, a washcloth, and bar of soap and set them down in a pile next to the bathtub.  
  
She remembered seeing an hourglass in the sitting room of her guest- chambers, and ran to fetch it, so that she wouldn't linger too long in the bath. By the time she returned, the water was ready. She undressed, and climbed down the steps into the steaming fragrant water. She upended the hourglass and set it on the edge of the tub. Mira took one of the towels and rolled it up to use as a makeshift pillow. She sat back in the corner, on the ledge that ran along the walls of the tub, and leaned her head back against the pillow, soaking in the warmth and breathing in the scent of the fragranced fire. Without intending to, she drifted off to sleep.  
  
Professor Snape returned from the Slytherin dormitory in a very foul mood. Crabbe and Goyle had managed to spill an entire pitcher of pumpkin juice on the rug during a game of wizarding chess that had degenerated into an out and out brawl amongst the chess pieces. Instead of cleaning it up, they left it to soak into the fibers of the rug, figuring the house-elves would take care of it during the night. In addition to their detention of disemboweling marsh toads, they would start the day Sunday on their knees, scrubbing the carpet. It took several minutes of arguing back and forth with the house-elves to make sure that the mess was left for the boys to clean on their own. After a severe dressing down, the professor banished the boys to bed, without any of their sweets or games. Those, he confiscated and placed on the large tea table in the common rooms, a magical barrier preventing them from being touched until sundown the next day.  
  
He swept through the Potions classroom, through his office, and into his private chambers. He threw his robe onto the bed, and made his way through the passageway into Mira's guest quarters. He didn't see her in the bedroom, and saw no sign of her in the sitting room. He saw the door to the bathroom open, and firelight flickering from within. He knocked softly on the frame of the door, and got no response. He glanced in, and spotted her sleeping in the bath.  
  
He smiled and quietly crossed the floor towards her. He removed the pile of clothes off of the little chair, and set the brooch he had given her on the table where the towels were stacked. He picked up the filmy little night-robe and raised an eyebrow as he pondered the thought of her in it. He sat back in the comfortable little chair, and watched her for a while. She was up to her chin in bubbles, and her head had lolled to one side, letting her hair trail into the foamy water. He inhaled the fragrance from the fireplace, and recognized one of the smoldering resins as having sedative properties. He knelt down at the edge of the bathtub. Judging from the heaviness of the fragrance in the air, she must have used quite a handful of resin in the fire.  
  
"Mira?"  
  
She slept on, oblivious to his presence.  
  
"Mira, wake up, you've fallen asleep in the bath."  
  
She turned her head to the other side and made a contented little noise. But didn't wake up. Smirking, he stood and started to undress. He slowly descended the steps into the large tub, so as not to wake her. He stood waist-deep in the water, and savored the warmth and fragrance. It was much nicer than the bathtub in his chambers. Half again as large and nearly twice as deep. His was merely an oversized bathtub; this was a small soaking pool.  
  
He slowly made his way across to the corner where she was sleeping, so as not to startle her. He used his hands to push the bubbles out of the way as he moved closer to her.  
  
"Mirabelle, wake up love; you've overdone it with the relaxation resin."  
  
No response. Just a very contented look on her face, and the gentle rising and falling of her chest under the surface of the water. He reached up and brushed some stray soap suds off of her chin and cheek. Mira sighed and nuzzled her face against his hand. He leaned in and kissed her softly on her forehead. She made a pleasurable little noise and shifted position slightly under the water. A wicked idea worked its way into his thoughts.  
  
He stood over her and tilted her head back onto the rolled up towel. Quietly, he bent over and gently bit the tender flesh of her neck. Instead of waking, as he had anticipated, she moaned softly and rolled her head away from his mouth. He pushed her knees apart and leaned in against her body to whisper in her ear.  
  
"Mira, wake up. I don't want to have to startle you awake with a spell"  
  
She mumbled unintelligibly and pressed her thighs against his legs. But she didn't wake up. Frustrated, he stood back and ran a damp hand through his hair. He knew she wasn't in any kind of danger, merely under the effects of a sedative, which was amplified by the warm water. He wondered if he should just let her sleep it off while he enjoyed a soak in the bath, or continue to try and wake her. She exhaled deeply and shifted position again; and started to slide off of the ledge, down into the water.  
  
He lunged and grabbed her around the waist before she drowned herself. As he lifted her back up onto the ledge, she sighed, wrapped her arms and legs around him and moaned his name. But it didn't sound exactly like his name. For a moment he thought that she had called him Sirius. But then banished the thought as absurd. She couldn't have said Sirius. Their names were quite similar and she was merely slurring her words from the sedative. Still, it bothered him. He despised Sirius Black, and if it was truly his name that she said? Well, he didn't want to even think that it might have been his name that she said. Still, he couldn't stop thinking it.  
  
He tried to reason with himself that what he had heard was her slurring her speech from the sedative, she had said his name, not Sirius. Despite knowing that was the only rational explanation for what he thought he had heard, he felt the heat of jealousy flare up within him. He also noticed that jealousy wasn't the only thing flaring up. He realized just how incredibly aroused he was, with a naked and unconscious Mira literally wrapped around his body. He wondered just how deeply unconscious she was, and would she even wake up if he started to make love to her.  
  
He found the idea overpoweringly arousing, but slightly disturbing. And then wondered if he took her in her current state, just whom would she think she was making love with? Frustrated, jealous, and very horny, he ran his hands through his hair and gave an exasperated sigh. He decided to try one last time to wake her, and if she didn't wake, he would get her out of the bath, dry her off, carry her to bed and let her sleep the effects of the sedative off.  
  
He shook her gently, and took her head in his hands.  
  
"Mira, wake up. Mira!"  
  
With a slight jump, she blinked and looked at him through heavy eyelids, her expression registering recognition.  
  
"Hey. I guess I must have dozed off. You're in the mood for a bath too?"  
  
He pulled her face to his, and kissed her hungrily, taking her bottom lip between his teeth. Mira made a surprised little whimpering noise, and pressed her body against his, feeling the extent of his arousal.  
  
"It's not a bath I'm in the mood for."  
  
"Shouldn't we go into the bedroom?"  
  
"No."  
  
He braced himself against the bottom of the bathtub and made love to her fiercely, fueled by the twin passions of desire and jealousy. After finishing off, and catching his breath; he regained his composure and helped a still drowsy and weak-kneed Mira out of the bathtub, wrapped her in a large fluffy towel, and helped her into the little chair in the corner.  
  
Mira sat in a daze, watching Professor Snape dry himself off in front of the fire, and wrap a dry towel around his hips. She wondered just what had happened there in the soaking tub. He was not a timid lover by any means, but had never been quite that rough with her before. She enjoyed the experience, no doubt about that, but he actually hurt her a little at the end. He was usually intense, dominating, and a bit on the feral side when it came to lovemaking, but he had never been quite so brutal about it before. She watched him moving, his body was very tense, he was wound up about something.  
  
He picked up his wand from the pile of his clothes, and cast a clearing of the air charm. Within seconds, Mira started to feel a little more alert. The professor picked up Mira's wand and the brooch he gave her; and helped her up out of the chair and into the bedroom.  
  
"The effects of the relaxation resin should wear off in a few minutes. I'm sorry you weren't warned about it, I didn't know that's what was in the urn by the fireplace. I'm pretty much immune to it now, but you were very strongly affected by it. Here, let me help you into bed."  
  
He helped her up into the large bed, placed their wands and her brooch on the bedside table, and helped her out of the towel. It was going to get well below freezing that night, so he undid the ropes that held the heavy draperies open, and pulled them shut around the sides of the bed. He tossed his towel on the floor next to hers, extinguished all the lamps, and crawled under the blankets. Pulling her close to him, he whispered in her ear.  
  
"I didn't frighten you in the bath, did I? I noticed you were a little startled when you woke up."  
  
"No, I knew you were there with me, but I couldn't wake up. I was dreaming one thing in my mind, but I knew what was going on around me as well. It was very confusing."  
  
"That's an effect of overuse of the relaxation resin. It causes vivid dreams but during a state of deep semi-consciousness."  
  
"Oh. For a while, I wasn't sure what was my dream and what was reality."  
  
"What were you dreaming about?"  
  
"It's a little embarrassing, but I was having a sexy dream, and then I felt you in the bathtub with me, but I couldn't really tell what was real and what was my dream. I dreamed that I was making love and then all of the sudden, I was doing it for real."  
  
"You were dreaming about me then?"  
  
"Well, yeah. I didn't see a face in the dream, but it had to have been you. I mean, who else would it have been?"  
  
Snape pulled her tightly against him and kissed her forehead. He felt very foolish for even suspecting her of fantasizing about Sirius, and quite guilty for having taken her so roughly and selfishly in the bath. He was sure he had hurt her, and he regretted letting his jealousy overpower him like that. He lay awake for some time, staring at the stars through the enchanted canopy; thinking of how very much he loved Mira, and how terrified he was of losing her. 


	50. Eloise's Robe

Author's notes: Still here and writing. I do hope to finish the story before the new book comes out. Partially because a lot of things I just made up or speculated/guessed about in this story will be proven incorrect; but also because I'm going to be spending my free time reading!  
  
Thank you's to all who reviewed my story. Even the ones who didn't like it.  
  
I know my grammar and sentence structure needs work. What do I do? Put the story up now, flaws and all, and then re-do it when I feel I can do a better job? Or, just sit on the idea until I have the time to really devote to re-learning all that groovy writing stuff that trickled out of my brain in the years since my 1989 Intro to Literature and Composition class? I choose the former. I can always go back and re-write it when I get better.  
  
The plot is old and has been done every which way. True, guilty as charged. But if you look around the literary world, there are an awful lot of variations on the same theme. Just look at the demand for mystery novels involving cats, food, and bed and breakfast inns. What's tired and overdone to one, is a favorite theme to another. Just a matter of personal taste. It all doesn't have to be an innovative masterpiece, just entertaining to its audience.  
  
Ron is struggling with his identity and coming of age in the wizarding world. I am writing him as being very insecure. He's less privileged than his friends, he's not studious like Hermione, and he's not a celebrity like Harry. Life is very "unfair" to Ron. He doesn't like Mira because he despises Professor Snape, and doesn't trust him because he is tremendously unfair to him and his friends.  
  
The story is going to go quite dark and angsty at the end. No major deaths, romantic split-ups, etc. but fair warning.  
  
Disclaimers: Nothing recognizable from the books or movies belongs to me. Sad, but unfortunately true.  
  
Chapter 50: Eloise's Robe  
  
Sunday morning, Mira woke to bright sunshine streaming in through the enchanted canopy overhead. Again, she found herself alone in the large guest-chamber bed. The professor was an early riser, and he often worked on into the wee hours of the morning. As a man who had lived a precarious existence, lazing in bed was an unaccustomed waste of time.  
  
Mira crawled out from behind the warm heavy bed-curtains and found her day- robe freshly cleaned and pressed hanging on the outside of the armoire. She dressed, tied the ribbon with the brooch around her neck, and brushed her hair out. There was a note from the professor on her dressing table. He would be supervising his students' detention until noontime, and it would be best if Mira had a house-elf lead her to the Potions wing of the dungeons instead of using the shortcut.  
  
Mira went into the sitting room and rang the little bell. A hidden door beside the fireplace opened and a bright-eyed house-elf stepped out.  
  
"How is it that I can help you missus? Would you wishing for me to bring you a lovely breakfast?"  
  
Mira remembered the house-elves penchant for over-serving meals, and decided that she could hold off until lunchtime.  
  
"Thank you, but no. What I need, is for you to help me find the Potions classroom. I'm afraid I've never been into the dungeons on my own, and the map the headmaster gave me is quite confusing in places."  
  
The little house elf led her down into the dungeon level of the school, down several creepy and damp corridors, until they came to the door to the Potions classroom. Mira turned to thank the elf, but he had simply vanished. She knocked on the oversized wooden door, and heard the professor's voice booming out from within.  
  
"I will get the door Goyle! You just keep working on those toads!"  
  
Professor Snape threw the heavy door open, causing Mira to jump back a step.  
  
"Sorry, I didn't expect you so early."  
  
He turned and shot a stern look over his shoulder at the two boys who were working over a pair of large basins; and then stepped out into the corridor, shutting the door behind him. He gave Mira a gentle kiss, and asked her if she had eaten breakfast yet.  
  
"No, the house-elf offered, but I figured I could just wait."  
  
"Very well, my students should be finished with their task by noontime. If you wish, you can come sit and keep me company until they're finished. Then I can arrange for lunch to be served in my chambers."  
  
Mira followed him into the classroom, past the boys, who were sitting in the back working on their detention task. She gave an involuntary shudder of revulsion at the sight of the barrel of disemboweled toad carcasses sitting beside the table. She averted her eyes from the basins that the boys were depositing the entrails into, grateful that the professor's desk was situated completely across the room from the gruesome display. And conveniently out of earshot when talking in a restrained voice.  
  
"Did you sleep well? Some people have unpleasant side effects after using relaxation resin."  
  
"No, I slept very soundly. Dreamlessly as a matter of fact."  
  
The professor became quite tense and shuffled some scrolls around on his desk, eager to change the subject.  
  
"Have you arranged a meeting place with Miss Granger, for your tutoring lesson?"  
  
"Oh, hell. I knew I was forgetting to do something this morning. I remember she said that she would try and reserve a private meeting room at the Three Broomsticks for us."  
  
"The Three Broomsticks?"  
  
"Yeah, she said that the landlady was very friendly to her and her friends, and it shouldn't be a problem. By the way, can I borrow a quill and a piece of parchment, I need to send her an owl before I forget."  
  
The professor handed Mira a blank piece of parchment from his desk drawer and a quill and inkwell from the side of his desk. She sat down in the front row of worktables and dashed off a quick letter to Hermione. She carried the scroll to the professor's desk, and he rang for a house-elf to dispatch it via owl.  
  
"So, what is your first lesson going to be about?"  
  
"Transfiguration. I'm supposed to turn a matchstick into a needle and then back again, and have the match still be functional. I think I can do it; I've practiced a little on my own and have managed a very sharp piece of wood. I have changed the color of thread and the size of buttons before. But not actually changed one thing into another."  
  
They made small talk and discussed what skills Mira should concentrate on studying. They also discussed the New Year's weekend, and the Twelfth Night ball. Mira had tentative plans the days surrounding New Year's, with her cousin and Tricia. It would be her only chance to spend any real time with the girl before she had to return to Beauxabatons for the spring term. She didn't think she would be free New Year's Eve, and told the professor that she would owl him when she knew for sure. One of the boys serving detention cleared his throat loudly to get Snape's attention.  
  
"Professor! We've finished up with the toads! Can we go now?"  
  
"Have you bottled up the entrails yet?"  
  
"Uh, no sir."  
  
"Then you aren't finished, are you Mister Crabbe?"  
  
"Uh, no sir. What do we bottle them in?"  
  
"There is a funnel and a row of pint size bottles behind you on the supply shelf. You will use those bottles, and please label them properly. They are marsh toad entrails, not frog guts."  
  
"Yes sir."  
  
The professor kept a wary eye on the boys to make sure that they followed directions, before returning to his conversation with Mira. Mira talked about how her cousin's daughter was doing much better at Beauxbatons. She had finally started to take her studies a little more seriously. Most likely because the Continental wizarding schools still employed corporal punishment in the case of rule-breaking, and Tricia was not at all eager to experience what she heard whispered about by her classmates firsthand.  
  
"Professor! We've finished bottling the frog guts. I mean the marsh toad entrails! Can we go now?"  
  
"Carry the barrel of toad carcasses to Hagrid, and tell him that they're a belated Christmas present from me. He'll be ecstatic to have such an out of season treat for that menagerie of beasts he calls his pets. Once you've delivered the barrel to Hagrid, you are free to do whatever it is that you wish to do, barring any rule breaking and troublemaking."  
  
"Yes sir!"  
  
The two large boys each grabbed a handle of the barrel and awkwardly carried it out of the classroom. Professor Snape got up from his desk and watched them as they stumbled towards the staircase.  
  
"And be careful! If I find so much as one stray toad carcass in the corridors, the pair of you will be scrubbing cauldrons for a week!"  
  
With an exasperated sigh, he shut the door behind them, and returned to Mira.  
  
"Thank Merlin that's over with. Shall we retire to my private chambers, and have the house-elves send down some lunch?"  
  
"Sounds lovely, lead the way."  
  
The couple went into the professor's private chambers. He conjured up a second chair and motioned for Mira to sit at the little dining room table. He rang for a house elf, which appeared through a small hidden door next to the fireplace. Within moments of the elf's departure, a lavish meal appeared on the table. After their meal, the professor conjured a second armchair in front of the fireplace, and they sat together for a while, enjoying each other's company before Mira had to head return to her home in Hogsmeade.  
  
As the students were gone, the professor escorted Mira back through the magical passageway and sat with her while she gathered up the few things she had brought with her for her visit. After she finished packing, Professor Snape rang for a house elf and asked it to dispatch a carriage to the main entrance.  
  
"I had a brief word with the headmaster this morning at breakfast. He apologizes for not being able to see you off personally, but sends his regards. He wanted me to tell you that you are more than welcome to arrive early for the Twelfth Night ball and use these chambers to get ready; and you are more than welcome to stay on through the weekend as well."  
  
"Tell him that his hospitality is most kind, and I will definitely plan to arrive early and stay here at least the night of the ball."  
  
A house elf entered through the little hidden door next to the fireplace and announced that the carriage had arrived and was waiting. The professor told it to take Mira's bag on to the carriage; they would follow shortly. The house elf picked up her bag, slung it onto its back, and headed towards the little fireplace door. He realized the bag was too large to fit through the little doorway, so he snapped his fingers and vanished.  
  
"Well then. I suppose I should escort you on to your carriage now."  
  
"Wait. I wanted to thank you again for inviting me to spend the holiday with you. It was nice to spend some more time here at Hogwarts, under more pleasant circumstances."  
  
"It was my pleasure, Mira. I regret that we live so close to each other yet don't have the chance to see each other more often. I've spoken with the headmaster, and I will have one weekend free per month to spend away from the school. I have also started the process of liquidating my family estate. Unfortunately there's a clause in the deed to the property, which states that the land the house was built on must remain in the family until the last surviving member dies. I'm currently working with an attorney in Diagon Alley, to see if the land may be sold to a distant relation or leased to a tenant. Frankly, I have no desire to rebuild the house or live on that piece of land ever again."  
  
"I don't blame you one bit. I don't spend much time in New Orleans anymore because of memories. It's good for a retreat, especially since I remodeled quite a bit and found tenants. But I could never really call it my permanent home again. I'm hoping that after I'm gone, Tricia will want the building. If not, she can sell it and use the money to do whatever she wishes."  
  
"I've decided that if the land cannot be sold or leased, I will have the ruins torn down, and Nature can take what's left. I'm also in the process of searching for a small cottage or flat; where I can create a home of my own, away from the school. Of course, I'm still contractually obligated to remain at the school during the fall and spring terms, because I'm a head of house. But my contract does not tie me to the school during the Christmas and summer holidays. But we can talk more about this another time; your carriage is waiting. Come."  
  
He took her by the hand and escorted her down the hallway to the main entrance, where a pair of house-elves stood huddled inside the heavy wooden doors. It wasn't snowing, but the wind was whipping an icy cold blast of air up off of the lake. Professor Snape helped Mira up into the carriage, and leaned in the door to give her a farewell kiss. She wrapped her arms around his neck, already missing him, even though she had not yet left. He pulled back and started to shut the door of the carriage.  
  
"Oh, I almost forgot! I still have the key to the guest chambers."  
  
Mira fumbled around in the pockets of her day-robe, looking for the key.  
  
"No, keep it. Those are your chambers whenever you're here at Hogwarts. It'll be kept just as you left it. Don't ask me how these things work, but it'll be there the next time that key in your pocket is inserted in the lock on that door."  
  
"Oh, okay."  
  
"You best be going, it looks as if another snowstorm is heading down from the hills. Owl me when you find out if you will be free New Year's Eve."  
  
"I will."  
  
The carriage door closed and it started to roll slowly forward. Mira turned and looked out the back window of the carriage. The house elves had retreated into the warmth of the school, but the professor stayed at the foot of the steps, robe wrapped tightly around his chest, until the carriage disappeared around the curve that skirted the lake.  
  
At the train station, Mira grabbed up her bag, and hurried down the street to the shop. She disengaged the security wards and unlocked the door. Waiting for her was a stack of scrolls and Christmas cards. Susan and Tricia had been by the shop earlier in the day, apparently on their way home from Eloise's cottage. There was a very large box, not wrapped like a gift though, sitting on the counter with a note from Susan tied to it. Next to it was a basket with all manner of holiday treats left over from the Christmas feast. Mira was grateful that at least she wouldn't have to cook or venture out to the café for a meal. She levitated the large box up the stairs, carrying her basket of food, the owl post, and the bag she had taken to the school.  
  
She dumped the scrolls and basket of food on her dining table, and set the large box on the tea table. She started a fire in the fireplace, and went to her bedroom to unpack her bag. Bag unpacked, she changed into a lounging robe and put the kettle on the stove to heat. She sat and drank hot tea and ate Christmas cookies and a kind of roast goose and vegetable pie for supper. The cookies came from a bakery in Diagon Alley, she recognized them. They must have been Susan's contribution to the feast. But the meat pie was all Eloise's. "Waste not, want not" was one of the old woman's favorite sayings, the pie had inevitably been made from the leftovers of the Christmas Day feast.  
  
Mira made a mental note to send a long-distance owl to her grandmother and thank her for sending her a care package. She opened the scrolls, and separated them into two piles. One pile for business correspondence, the other one for personal correspondence. Hermione had in fact managed to book the small private dining room at the Three Broomsticks, and would see her the following evening just after six. The widower who Susan was trying to set her up with had sent her a note, asking if she liked the chocolates, and to extend an invitation to a New Year's Eve reception at his home outside of London. Mira rolled that scroll back up and put it aside. She would have to write him and let him know that she was flattered but not interested, being already courted by another man. She didn't look forward to writing the man; it would inevitably spark another confrontation with Susan.  
  
After she finished eating, Mira put the leftover treats and her dishes away in the kitchen and decided to see what was in the box from Susan. She thought it would probably be something for the shop, maybe new samples to put in the front window. She untied the scroll and read the note from her cousin.  
  
"During the course of Christmas dinner, your name came up in conversation. Tricia mentioned that you would be attending the Hogwarts Masquerade Ball with that professor you've been consorting with. Needless to say, Eloise was very interested to hear all about it. This is actually from her. Where and when she acquired it, I have no idea; but she wanted you to have it and asked that I drop it by the store with some leftovers on the way back home. Will be in touch with you early on in the week regarding your day with Tricia and New Year's Eve. Warmest holiday regards, Susan."  
  
Mira untied the box and found an exquisite fancy dress robe folded up within. It had to be from the time of Eloise's youth, as it was made with a quality of handiwork not seen in decades. Mira held it up to get a better look. It was made of slinky black silk satin with thousands of tiny iridescent beads sewn onto the body, in shades of dark green and bronze. The sleeves were very long and full and covered in embroidery and beading as well, but in shades of dark blue, teal, and violet. It was a butterfly robe. The front and back panels of the body of the robe were designed to resemble the body of the butterfly; the long hanging sleeves were the wings. Packed underneath the robe was a kind of diadem or tiara that would be worn just off the forehead, and which resembled curving glittering antennae. It was very Parisian, very art deco. Yes, it must have been Eloise's fancy dress robe from many years ago. Tucked underneath the headdress was a small folded piece of parchment; Mira recognized Eloise's perfume on the letter.  
  
"Mirabelle, chere. When I heard from Patricia that you would be attending this Hogwarts fancy dress ball, I knew that I had to send this to you. It was bought for me by my grandmother; from a witch couturier in Paris. I wore it on my eighteenth birthday, to a coming-out ball held for several young witches who had come of age that season. You may need to tinker with the fit here and there, but as everything that which once was old becomes new again, you should be the belle of the ball in it. Consider it my Christmas gift to you chere. I do hope to have the chance to visit with you soon, maybe some weekend with your beloved professor? France is truly lovely in springtime, especially for the young lovers. Joyeux Noel ma chere, and please think of me when you wear my robe to the ball. Love to you, Eloise."  
  
Mira carried the robe and diadem to her bedchamber, hung the heavy robe on a hanger, and hooked it to the outside of her wardrobe. It certainly would need lengthening and letting out here and there, but nothing the tailor elves couldn't do with their special magic. Once they were through with it, the robe would look as if it had been made for Mira and Mira alone.  
  
Mira read her transfiguration textbook for a couple of hours and decided to call it a night and get some sleep. She changed from her lounging robe into a night-chemise and cast the appropriate security wards on the building. Professor Snape had been worried about her living alone, and taught her an advanced charm to protect against somebody apparating into the building when the wards were activated. Mira thought of it as a kind of magical alarm system, and slept much more soundly with the wards in place.  
  
However, that night it was a false sense of security. As soon as the lights were out and she drifted off to sleep, the small glowing glass orb floated up the stairs and hovered around her bedchamber for several minutes. The orb settled itself down on the top edge of the curtains, hidden in a fold of fabric. From this vantage point, it could take in the entire bedchamber and bathroom suite. The orb glowed softly in the curtains for some time, and gently faded out to near transparency. 


	51. The Twisted Plan of a Twisted Mind

Author's Notes: First up, this chapter ends on a very ugly note. Emotionally abusive and quasi-consensual sex scene. If you haven't figured out what Lucius and Narcissa are playing at, you'll know by the end of this chapter.  
  
Disclaimers: Nothing from the books or movies belongs to me.  
  
Chapter 51: The Twisted Plan of a Twisted Mind  
  
Mira woke early in the morning, to prepare for work. She put the kettle on for tea while she changed into her work clothes. She grabbed a handful of cookies from the basket of goodies, grabbed the business correspondence, and headed downstairs to unlock the door.  
  
Business was slow, and she found herself with plenty of time on her hands to write Eloise and thank her for the robe. Mira also wrote to Susan, confirming her plan to meet Tricia at the Leaky Cauldron at ten in the morning on Thursday. Finished with the two letters. She went upstairs and quickly fetched the ball robe, and bundled it up in tissue paper before packing it securely in its box with a note for the tailor elves. Swiftfeather had just arrived from a night of hunting and doing whatever it was that owls did in their free time. Mira promised him he could nap on his perch all day if he would just carry a quick note to the courier service. Swiftfeather hooted in an irritated fashion, and flapped his wings at her.  
  
"Oh Swiftfeather, come on. All I need is for you to run a note to the courier, so that they can come pick this up. Or would you rather carry it all the way to the workshop and then carry Eloise's note all the way to France?"  
  
The bird begrudgingly stuck out his leg for Mira to tie the note to it. He flapped his wings vigorously; sending a few loose feathers flying, and took off out the owl window into the cold winter sky. A short while later, the owl returned to his perch, and turned his back to Mira, and hunkered down for a nap. A courier arrived shortly before noon, to pick up the ball robe and the scrolls for Eloise and Susan.  
  
"The parcel goes to the workshop, if you could please take the scrolls to the postal center and have them dispatched to their destinations. One goes international, the other fairly local, but my owl is resting up for an evening delivery."  
  
The young man tipped his cap and tucked the scrolls into a satchel. He levitated the parcel into a small cart outside the door and continued on his way. After helping a few customers spend their Christmas coins, she browsed a sample book, trying to come up with an idea for the professor's fancy dress robe. She decided that her best bet for keeping him content would be to have something made up in the style of Shakespearean era wizards. They were close enough to modern formal wizarding robes to be comfortable; but would pass for fancy dress. Dumbledore often wore robes very similar to ones of that era himself. But then again, he was a bit of an eccentric old wizard. She decided on a style, and made sketches on a blank parchment. She could use the shop's wholesale account, but even as such, she was on a budget. Mira found fabric scraps and made some additional sketches of embellishments for the robe. She rolled them up in a scroll and set it aside to send out with Swiftfeather when he was ready to make his evening run.  
  
The time came for Mira to leave for her tutoring session. She closed down the store, packed the special order scrolls into Swiftfeather's satchel, and saw him out the window. She then grabbed her textbook, locked the door, and cast the security wards before walking over to the Three Broomsticks inn. She found Hermione sitting at a table by the fireplace waiting on her.  
  
"Hi, I got here a little early so that I could check out the room. It's a little small, but for simple transfiguration work, it'll do just fine."  
  
"Okay, lead the way. I'm not very familiar with this inn, I don't know where the private meeting and dining rooms are."  
  
Hermione led Mira around a corner, past the bar, to a hallway with several doors. Each was a meeting or dining room. Some could hole large parties; others were small enough for a table for two and not much more. It was one of the smaller rooms, which Hermione had been given freedom to use for the tutoring sessions. Just as they were getting settled in the room, a serving girl knocked on the door and asked if they would like anything to eat or drink. Mira went ahead and ordered a pot of tea to share with Hermione, and a small selection of teacakes, as she had skipped supper to come straight over.  
  
Hermione went over the basics of transfiguration, and produced a handful of matchsticks from her book satchel. Mira would start by changing the matchsticks into needles, then back to matchsticks again. Mira had no problem with that basic task. She and Hermione sat and enjoyed the pot of tea and chatted amicably. Hermione had a happy Christmas overall. Her parents held a formal party for friends and business associates and Hermione was deemed mature enough to attend instead of staying up in her room all evening. Mira told her of spending Christmas at Hogwarts and how she was amazed at the size of the school building, and would never want to be lost in the corridors without a good map.  
  
Finished with their break, Hermione asked Mira to transfigure the teapot into a pumpkin. Which she did, sort of. The pumpkin had a spout shaped stem and a handle shaped leaf. But it was no longer a china teapot; underneath the lid were the inner parts of a pumpkin. She managed to get it back to a china teapot, albeit with a green lid and spout. Hermione changed the teapot back to pure white china with a flick of her wand. And commented that it was a good first attempt at changing a non-organic object into an organic object. It was easier to change organic to organic or inorganic to inorganic, but crossing that barrier between organic and inorganic was very difficult. She had thrown that task in to test Mira's level of expertise.  
  
They talked about the rules of transfiguration. What was legal, and what was quasi-legal, and what was completely against wizarding law. One could transform objects at will, as long as one was not doing it for unethical reasons. Transforming animals was a gray area, and the legality of it was measured on a case-by-case basis. Transforming humans was against the law, unless done as a consensual temporary experience or in self-defense.  
  
Hermione called the session to a close, by having Mira read the next section in the textbook, and asking her to practice turning objects into fruits and vegetables and vice versa. They had the room for another ten minutes, and spent the time chatting about the trip into London which Tricia had invited Hermione along on.  
  
Mira walked Hermione to the floo fireplace and told her that she would see her again on Wednesday evening. Hermione took the floo to the Leaky Cauldron, and then took a taxi to the street her house was located on.  
  
Mira paid the barmaid for the tea and cakes, and warmed herself in front of the fire before hastily dashing down the street to the tailor shop. She had no idea that a person in an invisibility cloak was following her; had she looked behind her, she would have seen the trail of footprints in the light dusting of snow on the ground. Mira reached the tailor shop and locked herself inside. The cloaked observer made their way to a carriage parked around the corner. The minute she reached the top of the stairs and lit the lamps and fireplace in the apartment, the tiny sphere in the curtains began to glow.  
  
Mira set her boots in front of the fire to dry, and hung her cloak on the wall peg to dry. She pulled her work clothes off and tossed them into a hamper, pulled a clean night-chemise out of her wardrobe and laid it on the bed. She started running her bath water, and stripped down to the skin, tossing her underclothes into the hamper on top of the day-robe. The tub full, she climbed in, and soaked in the steaming hot water until she grew drowsy. She got out, toweled herself off, and sat at her dressing table to groom her hair and nails. Her beauty routine finished; she pulled the night-chemise on over her head, performed the charms to cast the security wards on the building, and crawled under the covers.  
  
Before she could extinguish all the lamps, the glowing orb faded to darkness.  
  
Lucius Malfoy carefully placed the velvet cloth over the far-seeing gazing crystal, and rang for his valet. He ordered the servant to fetch his wife and bring her down to his study. While waiting for Narcissa to arrive, Lucius opened his locked cabinet, and removed the bottle of liquid and the larger silver box. A knock at the doors of his study let him know that the time had come to test the potion.  
  
He limped across the room, unlocked the door and dismissed his valet for the evening, telling him to thank the groundskeeper for a job well done, when the man returned with the carriage. Narcissa entered the study, and cast a disgusted look at the covered far-seeing crystal on the desk.  
  
"Come now my darling. You know I had to use it to gain information that will ensure our plan plays out flawlessly."  
  
"It just seems as if you have been spending an inordinate amount of time gaining information the past week; if that's what you're choosing to call it."  
  
"My my, Narcissa. Do I detect a hint of jealousy in your voice this evening? One would think that being chosen as the vessel which will bring our Master back into the world would be an honor, not a hardship. Remember, you wanted it this way. Or, do I have to remind you that it was your idea to choose the donor?"  
  
"I've changed my mind. I do not wish for it to happen this way, it was a mistake. My mind was clouded by thoughts of revenge. I wasn't thinking clearly. I want a random donor. Any fertile male will do. I am sure you could find a dozen or more men who would give their lives for the honor of fathering the re-incarnation of our Master. And why me? Why not Cassie? Her blood is pure, and she will do whatever it is that I ask of her."  
  
"I think not. I have invested way too much energy into devising this plan; and to be frank, I anticipate the sweet taste of revenge myself. No, we have passed the point of no return, the plan will play out as I say."  
  
"I have the feeling that this is not so much about serving your master as it is about revenge on a rival; as well as a means to twist the knife deeper into my back. What if I refuse? What if I refuse to go along with your plan?"  
  
Lucius approached his wife and stepped around behind her. He embraced her around the waist, and drew her close against his chest. She bowed her head, fighting the tears that were welling up in her eyes. She would not let him see her cry; she did not want to give him the satisfaction. He leaned in over her shoulder and whispered in her ear.  
  
"My dear wife. You must be anxious from the fertility potions. I have heard that they wreak havoc with some witches' emotional stability. Please don't turn such an honor into something ugly. Once Master has been reborn and has regained his full powers, you will be a queen among women. Can you honestly stand here and tell me that you would give that honor to a servant girl? Think of our son. Would you deny him the chance to inherit that kind of power simply because you have misgivings?"  
  
Something stirred in Narcissa's calculating mind. Yes, if she did go through with it, she would indeed be a queen among women; and rank higher in the echelon of followers of the Dark Lord than even her own husband. The power base would shift, and she would be lady and master of her home. She could deal with her husband in good time, and raise her son to be loyal to her, and her alone. She felt her tears dry away, and turned to face Lucius.  
  
"My dear husband. I have no idea what came over me. Of course, it must be the fertility potions. They have caused my hormones to shift out of balance, and have put me on edge. I apologize for my ungrateful behavior. Why, it is my humble duty and greatest honor to bear the re-incarnation of the Dark Lord. My only wish is that I be a worthy vessel."  
  
"Then come, it's time to test the potion. I need to make sure that the transformation is flawless."  
  
Lucius poured some of the viscous green liquid from the bottle into a silver goblet on his desk. He opened the little silver box and pulled a few hairs free from the little bundle. He dropped the hairs into the goblet and they were sucked down into the polyjuice potion, which started to turn a brilliant acid green.  
  
"Dismiss your maid for the evening, and take the potion to your bedchamber suite. Lock the door behind you. I have the spare key. I'll give you time to undergo the transformation in privacy before I come and check the results."  
  
Narcissa took the goblet from her husband and covered the top of it with her other hand. As she turned to leave, he reached out and took her gently by the shoulder.  
  
"Remember, she's quite a bit larger than you, so you might want to change into your dressing gown before taking the potion. It would be a shame to ruin such an expensive robe by busting the seams."  
  
A brief look of shock washed over Narcissa's face. She turned and fled from the study and up the stairs to her suite of rooms. She placed the goblet on her dressing table, and summoned her housemaid. She dismissed the maid to the servants' quarters for the evening, and locked the door to her chambers. She changed out of her sleek and fitted designer robe, into a voluminous velvet dressing gown, leaving the sash untied. She approached her dressing table, eyeing the goblet with a pained expression on her face. She picked it up, but hastily put it down again. She took a few deep breaths and reminded herself that it was only good for an hour, no longer.  
  
She picked up the goblet, and thinking of the power that her role in all of this would bring her and her son, she drank the vile liquid. With a shudder of revulsion and an overpowering wave of nausea, she dropped the goblet and ran to her bathroom, expecting her stomach to heave. The nausea quickly passed; she splashed her face with cool water, and wiped it dry with the sleeve of her dressing gown. Nothing was happening. Maybe the potion wasn't brewed correctly, or she was in some way immune to it?  
  
Slowly, she felt her body start to change. Instead of nausea, she felt very dizzy. Narcissa staggered back out of the bathroom and slumped onto her knees, against the side of her bed. It felt as if her bones and muscles had all of the sudden become liquid. The pain was less than she imagined though, nothing compared to childbirth. Narcissa looked down at her hands, and saw them get larger before her eyes. She clenched and unclenched them. It felt as if she had on thick gloves. She felt the fabric of the dressing gown strain across her shoulders, and felt the peculiar pull of gravity in places where she had never felt it before. She reached across her body for the goblet on the floor, and her upper arm met with resistance against the side of her chest. She looked down in horror and realized that the transformation was complete.  
  
Lucius quietly turned the key in the door to his wife's suite of rooms. He crossed the floor of her sitting parlor, and stood in the doorway of her bedchamber. She was oblivious to his presence, kneeling before the large mirror on her wardrobe, a glazed expression on her face. From what he could see, the transformation had gone quite well.  
  
"Stand up, let's see how it turned out."  
  
Narcissa jumped and looked over her shoulder at her husband.  
  
"I don't know if I can do this Lucius. She's so much bigger than I am, I can't even feel my center of gravity anymore. I don't even know how to move in this body."  
  
"That's why we're doing this trial run, so that you can become comfortable in your role, my dear. You've got an hour to get accustomed to it. If you're still having trouble, there's more than enough potion and hair for you to take another dose. Now stand up, time is passing."  
  
Narcissa shakily pulled herself to her feet, and braced herself against the side of the wardrobe. Lucius approached her with a critical eye. The height was right, the overall body size was right. The face and hair was most certainly right.  
  
"Take off your dressing gown, let's see the whole thing."  
  
Narcissa clutched the garment shut and shook her head.  
  
"No. Please. Take my word for it, the transformation was complete."  
  
Lucius sighed with exasperation.  
  
"You know that I have to make sure that you'll pass up close. Believe me Narcissa; this is not for my pleasure, this is for the good of all who are loyal to our Master. Now please take off the dressing gown so that I can examine you thoroughly."  
  
Narcissa tensed and turned her back to her husband. Not for his pleasure, indeed. She knew that he was enjoying it immensely and was taking a perverse thrill in the whole matter. She hated Mira, and hated the fact that the woman had drawn the attention of her husband. Her hatred went beyond jealousy. She couldn't care less what kind of muggle loving trash Lucius chose when he went slumming and whoring. He never let his dalliances affect their home life. But this Mira woman had invaded their lives in a most pervasive manner. He brought it home with him, and that made it personal.  
  
She slowly let the dressing gown slide off of her shoulders and onto the floor. Lucius grabbed her shoulder and turned her to face him. Instinctively, her arms flew across her body in an attempt to cover herself.  
  
"Narcissa, for Merlin's sake! I'm your husband. This false modesty is most tiresome."  
  
She dropped her arms to her side and was horrified at the look, which crept across her husband's face. A predator sizing up its prey, he eyed her with lust and calculating malice. She couldn't bear to watch his eyes roam over a body, which was not truly hers. She looked down at the ground in shame. He stepped closer to her, and walked around her, inspecting every inch of the mimic body.  
  
"Very nice indeed. I cannot tell the difference, but then again, I have not had the kind of. shall we say intimate contact that he has had with her. You will need to be more convincing than that if you want to succeed in your role my love."  
  
Lucius reached up and ran his fingers through the thick curly hair.  
  
"Walk across the room and then back to me."  
  
Narcissa took tentative mincing steps to the other side of the room, shamefully trying to hunch her shoulders and hide her body.  
  
"No, no no! Not like that! She's shameless Narcissa! She prances around like a whore! You've dealt with her in that tailor shop; you've seen how she moves. You must do better!"  
  
Narcissa took a deep breath, and walked back across the floor towards her husband; head held high, shoulders back.  
  
"Better, but not good enough. Loosen you body; let it move when you walk. And look me in the eye. She has no shame, no sense of proper decorum. Pretend that you're a muggle. I know you've seen muggle-born women walking down the street. I've seen you shoot them disapproving glares. Now, walk across the room and back again. You've got a half-hour left."  
  
Narcissa focused on trying to act as low-bred and slatternly as possible, and walked across the room. She turned and looked her husband in the eye, and walked back towards him. Her stomach churned at the look in his eyes, she must have done it right this time.  
  
He moved in close to her; his eyes slightly glazed, his breathing deep and heavy.  
  
"Excellent my love. You've got it spot on."  
  
He reached up, stroked her cheek, and pushed the hair off of her face. She looked away with her eyes as he tilted her chin upwards to inspect her face. He let his hand drop to her chest, and took one of her breasts in his hand. Narcissa gasped and stumbled backwards.  
  
"Oh for the love of Merlin, Narcissa. You're my wife! And I need to see if it feels as accurate as it looks."  
  
"You're being perverted Lucius! You have no idea what it feels like, and it doesn't have to feel right to you anyway! I know that you sit in your study and lust for her through that far-seeing crystal, but this is not some perverted sex game!"  
  
He stepped closer to her, and took her by the shoulders.  
  
"But it's just you and I Narcissa; husband and wife. How on Earth can it be perverted? You need to be comfortable with this body if you're to convince him that you're his whore. It's only for twenty more minutes Narcissa; you can do this. Think of the glory awaiting you when it's all said and done, hmmm?"  
  
She looked him directly in the eyes, a cold expression on her face.  
  
"Okay Lucius. I'll give you this if you promise me that you won't use his hair to have her for real. Promise me that you won't do it, and you can have me as her for the next twenty minutes."  
  
"Narcissa, you insult me. I didn't keep his hairs for that purpose. I kept them for future use, to help me seek revenge against him and bring him down. The thought of using them to have my way with her never entered my mind."  
  
"Promise me Lucius!"  
  
"Very well, I promise. Now that your jealous little mind has been placated, you have slightly less than twenty minutes to become completely at ease within that body."  
  
Narcissa walked towards the large bed, and picked her wand up off of the bedside table. She started to say the extinguishing charm, and Lucius took her arm and lowered her wand.  
  
"Leave the lamps burning."  
  
She shook his hand off of her arm and tossed the wand back onto the table.  
  
"Oh, and do pretend that you're enjoying it my love. I know you're used to faking in bed, so this should be the easiest part of the deception for you."  
  
"Fifteen minutes you bastard; then out of my chambers!"  
  
Lucius crawled up onto the large bed, leaned back against the pile of silk pillows, and fumbled with his clothes. Exposed and ready, he motioned for his wife to join him on the bed.  
  
"I want you on top, so I can have a better view."  
  
Narcissa climbed awkwardly onto the bed and lowered herself down onto him. She stared at a spot on the headboard, just above his shoulder, and mentally distanced herself from her body as she gave him his wish. His cold hands roamed over her altered body, causing unfamiliar tactile sensations. She fought against the natural responses she was feeling; she didn't want to give him the satisfaction of pleasuring her this way. After a short while, her body started to feel strange, the potion was wearing off. She felt her body start to shrink back to its normal proportions. With a disgusted sigh, Lucius shoved her off of him, not bothering to finish. He got up and adjusted his clothes in front of the mirror. Narcissa lay curled up, with her knees against her chest, on the far side of the bed. Lucius picked up his cane and tossed the dressing gown at his wife.  
  
"You'll do."  
  
Without another word, he limped out of her bedchamber, and slammed the door behind him. Narcissa rang for her maid, and ordered the girl to draw a very hot bath. She then instructed her to strip the bed, put fresh linens on it, and leave a dose of dreamless sleep potion on her bedside table. With the housemaid busy changing the linens, Narcissa crawled into the scalding hot water and scrubbed herself raw; trying to wash away the feeling of dirtiness and shame, which crawled over her skin. She dried herself off, dressed in a modest night-robe and drank down the potion before crawling into bed. Before sleep overtook her, she thought of how much she despised Mira and how much she also despised her husband. And, how both of them would pay dearly when she was compensated for her role in this twisted plan. 


	52. A Rough Day for Mira

Author's Notes: A fairly short chapter, to set up a major plot event. Sirius makes an appearance. And, Mira and Hermione have a bit of girl- talk.  
  
Disclaimer: Nothing from the books or movies belongs to me.  
  
Chapter 52: A Rough Day for Mira  
  
Tuesday came and went uneventfully for the most part. The fancy dress ball robes arrived via courier from the tailor elf workshop late in the afternoon. Eloise's robe was altered flawlessly. One could look at it closely and never realize it had been originally fitted to a shorter and smaller woman. The professor's heavy black renaissance era wizarding robe was exquisite as well. Not as flashy as the robe Mira would be wearing, but nicer than his formal academic robe. Mira had lucked out with finding a piece of very fine cut velvet fabric left over from a special order ceremonial robe commissioned by a high-ranking Ministry wizard. The tailor- elves managed to stretch it just enough to cut the deep cuffs and collar of the ball robe from it. She carried the box upstairs and hung the two robes in her wardrobe for safekeeping.  
  
Mira owled the professor, to let him know that she had procured appropriate robes for them to wear to the ball. She also asked if he could come by on New Year's Eve to try his on, to make sure it fit. She received an owl back, stating that he was being assigned to patrol the corridors the rest of the week, as there had been talk of some serious pranking among the students who were staying on over the holidays. But, he would try and see if he could steal away from the school for a little while sometime in the next few days.  
  
Before she went to bed, Mira wrote another note to the professor, letting him know that she understood about his being assigned to patrol the corridors, and would see him whenever possible. She also wrote to her cousin, to confirm that she would be meeting Tricia and Hermione at the Leaky Cauldron at ten in the morning on Thursday. Mira tied the notes to the shop-owl's legs before retiring to her upstairs apartment. Just after the owl took flight, a cloaked figure in the alleyway cast a spell on it and called the bird down to a waiting carriage. After a few minutes inside the carriage, the owl was back on its way to Hogwarts. But not before being enchanted to deliver any messages from the shop directly to the carriage or cloaked man first.  
  
The hooded man in the carriage took the original message from Mira. It was replaced with a scroll written in her own handwriting, telling the professor that she would let him know what night would be best for a quick rendezvous between his patrols of the school grounds.  
  
Wednesday evening was Mira's second tutoring session with Hermione. She arrived early, and found the girl sharing a bottle of butterbeer with her friend, Harry. Sirius Black, Harry's godfather, was drinking at the bar with Hagrid and a few other local wizarding folk. Mira sat and chatted with the young wizard and witch before it was time for her tutoring session. Sirius spotted her and carried his mug of ale from the bar to their table and sat down next to Mira.  
  
"So. What's a nice witch like you doing in a place like this?"  
  
Mira edged her chair a little closer to Hermione, and gave him a frosty look.  
  
"Sirius, please don't."  
  
"What did I say? I was just trying to be friendly, love. No harm done. I can tell that your boyfriend's charming demeanor has started to rub off on you. Why don't you let me buy you a drink, to cheer you up a bit."  
  
"Sirius, I came here to study with Hermione, not to drink."  
  
"Well, it's not time for you to study yet, is it? Come on. Let me buy you a drink, please? You know I'll keep bugging you until you give in."  
  
"All right, but only to spare me the embarrassment of having to hex you in public."  
  
"See, that wasn't painful; was it? What'll you have?"  
  
"Just one of those drinks the kids are sharing."  
  
"A butterbeer? Nothing stronger?"  
  
"No, just a butterbeer. Remember; I'm here to study, not to party."  
  
Mira looked at the large clock on the wall as it chimed the hour.  
  
"Oops! My how time flies. I suppose it's time for my lesson, so if you could just have the barmaid bring my drink back to the meeting-room I'd really appreciate it."  
  
She got up from the table and pushed her chair in.  
  
"Come along, Hermione. I'm quite eager to get started this evening. A pity we can't hang around and chat with your sweet little friend and his godfather."  
  
She picked up her book and turned to the two wizards.  
  
"Harry. Sirius."  
  
Mira turned and flipped the hem of her cloak back, letting it trail behind her as she headed towards the private dining rooms. Sirius laughed a raucous belly laugh, and Hermione snatched up her book and ran to keep up with Mira.  
  
The two witches situated themselves in the tiny dining room. Mira draped her cloak across the back of her chair, and waited for Hermione to unpack some items from her book satchel. Before they started, the barmaid knocked on the door and delivered two frosty bottles of butterbeer. One for Hermione, one for Mira.  
  
Hermione took a sip of her drink and looked over at Mira.  
  
"You don't like Sirius much, do you?"  
  
"Oh no Hermione. I like him just fine. It's just that he's been trying to play games with me, and I don't appreciate it."  
  
"Oh. I just noticed that you were awfully cross with him back there, and wondered why."  
  
"He's a very handsome and charming man, Hermione. And he knows it. And he knows I know it. But he's playing a very dangerous game. Look, you're old enough to understand. Sirius knows perfectly well who I'm involved with and that we're serious about each other. And the two of them have some kind of extreme bad blood between each other that goes back to their school days."  
  
"Um, I know. I know the story, or at least part of it. They've never exactly been friendly with each other."  
  
"Well, that's an understatement, Hermione. I've been there when they've met in passing and it was like two tomcats sizing each other up for a fight. Anyway, Sirius has been very flirtatious with me, and he's doing it to tweak the professor. I don't appreciate being used as a weapon against my own lover by his schoolyard rival."  
  
"I thought grown-ups didn't do things like that?"  
  
"Sweetie, grown-ups can be the worst with things like that. Now, don't get me wrong. Sirius takes good care of your friend, Harry. He's not a bad man. He just needs to grow up a little bit. Like so many others in the great brotherhood of mankind."  
  
"Don't I know it!"  
  
"Problems with your boyfriend, Hermione? He was quite the charmer when he came in to buy you gifts."  
  
"He just doesn't understand. He's trying so hard to be who he thinks I want him to be, that he's forgetting how to be himself. He's trying so hard to impress me with things and it's not things that matter to me."  
  
"Well, he's young. He wants to do all the right things but only has a vague idea of exactly what to do."  
  
"I know. It's just that sometimes I feel like I don't fit in with the wizarding world."  
  
"It's okay. I feel the same way a lot of the time myself."  
  
Mira patted Hermione on the hand, and the girl smiled and looked down at her books.  
  
"So, what's on the agenda for this evening?"  
  
"Well, I thought we could do more transfiguration of inorganic into organic. How about turning that empty glass butterbeer bottle into a wooden bottle?"  
  
Mira spent the rest of the tutoring session turning glass to wood, and then back to glass again. Satisfied that she had master of that skill, Hermione told her to study and practice; they would begin working with less complex animals the next session. Mira would start with transfiguring an earthworm into a piece of cord and back again.  
  
"Um, Hermione. I don't mean to question your methods, but we can move more quickly. I have actually done short-term human to animal transfiguration before. Not that I go around bragging about it, it is illegal and all. But I've done it, just the same."  
  
"Oh, I didn't know. Sorry, I thought you needed to start off on a very remedial level. I had no idea you were that advanced already."  
  
"It's okay. It's better this way, because I'm missing some important basic skills. We can just move really quickly past what I already know. And besides, I've not done serious magic in years; I'm woefully out of practice. It'll be good for me to go over all the basics again, just to make sure I haven't forgotten any of it."  
  
Mira reminded Hermione to be at the Leaky Cauldron in Diagon Alley by ten in the morning, for the day out with Tricia. Hermione told her she had been looking very much forward to it. She didn't have any sisters and didn't have many friends outside of Hogwarts; none really in the muggle world.  
  
The witches gathered their cloaks and books and exited the dining room. Sirius and Harry were already gone, but Hagrid was waving to Hermione from the bar. Mira bid her farewells, and left Hermione to visit with the half- giant gamekeeper. She walked down the icy street, oblivious to the fact that a large man in a dark hooded cloak was following her.  
  
Mira hesitantly stopped off at the little flat shared by her one time friend, Lucy, and her part time shop girl, Maddie. Mira had owled Maddie to let her know that she was needed all day in the shop on Thursday, but had not yet heard back from the girl. Lucy answered the door and was polite but cool towards her former best girlfriend. Maddie was out on a date, and would be home shortly. But if Mira wished, she could sit and wait for her. Since she was already there, Mira decided to stay. Lucy conjured up a tea set and sat primly on the edge of her sofa, eying Mira with a hard to decipher look on her face.  
  
"I have been meaning to talk with you. I hear that not only do former Death Eaters come around the shop, but an unstable wizard with a likely criminal past has been lurking around as well. I'm not entirely sure that I want my baby sister being exposed to such elements. I mean, it's ultimately her choice to work for you or not, she is of legal age. I just want to make sure that you can ensure her safety, considering the men which you have been seen consorting with."  
  
"Lucy, it's just part time. She's not exposed to any kind of danger. If you are concerned, you can send an owl to Albus Dumbledore over at the school, he can vouch for the integrity of both men and assure your sister's safety in their presence."  
  
"Mira, I don't understand you. I really don't. You have men pursuing you who can give you a lavish lifestyle and make you a lady of society. But you settle for a teacher with a questionable past. Maybe it's your muggle upbringing. I don't know. I just know that we've grown so much apart since you've become involved with this Potions professor. I miss our friendship, and I worry about you. He's already led you into harm's way once, it can happen again. You're woefully out of touch in the wizarding world, and there is talk that the dark wizards are planning some kind of uprising, to call in old debts from the war. Your professor may be a man of integrity, but he has enemies. That puts you at risk too. Just remember that, Mira. And please keep my sister out of it when it crashes down around you."  
  
Both women looked up to the sound of a key in the lock. Maddie entered the room, and gave her sister a puzzled look.  
  
"Hey Lucy. What's going on?"  
  
"Mira dropped by to find out if you were going to work for her tomorrow. I told her I didn't know, she would have to ask you in person."  
  
"Yeah, sure. I'll work all day. I can use the pocket money. Nine o' clock as usual?"  
  
Mira stood up and smoothed the front of her cloak.  
  
"Nine o' clock. See you then, okay?"  
  
She headed for the door, and looked back over her shoulder.  
  
"Bye, Lucy. 'Night Maddie."  
  
Mira stepped back out onto the street, very close to tears over the confrontation with Lucy. She was quite fed up with Lucy and Susan's attitudes. She made her way to the tailor shop; oblivious to the fact that somebody had been in while she was gone. There were two scrolls sitting at the foot of the shop-owl's perch, one with a Hogwarts seal on it.  
  
Mira pocketed the scrolls and went upstairs to her living quarters. She put her schoolbook on the table, hung her cloak by the fireplace, and changed into her nightclothes. She read the scrolls over a cup of soothing herbal tea. The first was from Susan. She was confirming that Tricia would be at the Leaky Cauldron at ten in the morning, wearing the appropriate muggle attire. And she also requested that Mira stay over with Susan and Albert the following night, as Tricia wanted some extra time with her "auntie" before having to return to school. The second scroll was a message from the professor, letting her know that he could steal away for maybe an hour between patrols of the school grounds the following night, and to owl him back and let him know what time she would be home from London.  
  
Mira realized that she was trapped between a rock and a hard place. She couldn't turn down Tricia's request to stay over, but she didn't want to miss seeing the professor either. She pulled out a scroll and quill and wrote him a quick note. She would be in London overnight, but would be home for New Year's Eve, and could see him anytime after she closed the shop.  
  
Mira bundled the scroll with a piece of twine, took it downstairs and balanced it across the water-cup of the shop-owl's perch. He was trained to fly by his owl window at least once during his nightly hunting runs, in case Mira had any urgent messages to be sent out.  
  
She cast all of the protection and security wards on the building, essentially locking herself in for the night, and went on up to bed. A couple of hours later, the owl swooped over the shop, and spied the scroll on his perch. He turned and came in for another pass, and the enchanted owl window slid open to give the bird access. He looked at the writing on the scroll, and recognized the shape of the writing as meaning the message was to go to the school castle. Swiftfeather clutched the message in his beak and flew back out the window, into the night sky.  
  
He turned away from the castle, and circled over a dark alley in the middle of Hogsmeade. The owl swooped down for a landing on the wheel of a black carriage, which was parked in the shadows. A large older man stepped out of the carriage and took the message from the owl. He looked around to make sure the coast was clear, and disapparated. Less than ten minutes later, the man apparated and handed the owl a forged scroll, and sent it back on its way to Hogwarts. He then walked quickly to the Hog's Head tavern; where he met up with a younger woman who was sitting alone at a table, with a bundle of cloth on the floor beside her. She got up, picked up the bundle, and followed the older man from the tavern back to the alley. The woman climbed into the carriage and set the bundle on the seat across from her, the man took his place on the driver's platform. He pulled out his wand, said a brief incantation, and the entire carriage disapparated into the night. 


	53. A Girls' Day Out

Author's Notes: First chapter after having read book 5, Order of the Phoenix. As promised, the story continues as outlined, and no spoilers from the upcoming book in this chapter or the remaining chapters. A somewhat fluff chapter, setting up plot lines in coming chapters. No sex, violence, or other warnings.  
  
Disclaimers: Nothing from the books or movies belongs to me, if you recognize any of it here; it's merely being borrowed.  
  
Chapter 53: A Girls' Day Out  
  
The next morning, Mira slept in until her shop assistant, Maddie arrived. While Maddie was readying the shop for the day, Mira dressed in her muggle clothes and packed a small bag for her trip to London. At a quarter of ten, she bid Maddie a good day, and explained to her that she need not attempt the security charms and wards. The locks on the door were generally charm-resistant, and the special wards were for Mira's own peace of mind, not to protect the store. Maddie could just keep the spare key until next time Mira saw her.  
  
Mira left via the floo fireplace, and arrived at the Leaky Cauldron in Diagon Alley before her cousin and Tricia or Hermione. She had barely taken a table and ordered a pot of tea when Hermione walked in through the front door. Mira waved the girl down, and asked a serving boy to bring some extra cups and saucers. Hermione and Mira spent the time waiting for Susan and Tricia chatting and sipping their tea.  
  
Always one to make an entrance, Susan emerged from the floo fireplace with Tricia in tow. She swept across the room, giving exaggerated apologies for being late. Once every eye in the room was on her, Susan made a big show of taking her cloak off and draping it over an extra chair. Mira recognized the robe as new, most likely French, and very expensive.  
  
Hermione complimented Susan's robe, and Susan feigned mock modesty.  
  
"Why this thing? I picked it up on a whim when we went to fetch Tricia from Beauxbatons."  
  
Mira looked away and rolled her eyes. Picking Tricia up at school was merely the excuse to go robe shopping in France. The robe was no whim. Whims don't come at that steep of a price. She also noticed that Tricia had a new muggle style outfit on, complete with a new coat, under her wizarding cloak.  
  
Tricia was bubbling over with excitement about spending a day in muggle London with her "auntie" and Hermione. A regular "girls' day out", as the muggles called it. Susan discussed a few things with Mira regarding Tricia, and what she was allowed and not allowed to do. The ground rules firmly in place, Susan took Mira's overnight bag and Tricia's wizarding cloak. As she left, she bid them all a good day.  
  
Mira paid for the tea, and the trio decided how they would spend their day together. Mira hadn't been out in muggle London much, and decided to appoint Hermione as the leader for the day, as she had spent much of her life in and around the city.  
  
Tricia wanted to go shopping in trendy boutiques, and Hermione wanted to visit a large used bookshop. Mira devised a compromise; they would go to two of Tricia's shops, Hermione's bookshop, and then to the large entertainment and shopping complex Mira frequented to see a movie after lunch.  
  
Tricia told her "auntie" that her mum had given her money for cab fare, as she didn't want Mira taking the girls into the subway. Whether Susan felt it was unsafe or beneath her social standing, Mira couldn't decide. Tricia explained that they were late because of the line at Gringott's. It took longer than expected to exchange Tricia's wizarding coins for muggle currency.  
  
It was already half past ten, so Mira gathered up her muggle style wrap and ushered the girls out the door of the tavern, where they hailed a cab to the shopping district.  
  
That morning, at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Professor Snape enjoyed the rare treat of sleeping in. He had been up most of the night, walking patrols of the school grounds. Not a task he particularly enjoyed, but with the rumors of serious pranking going around, it was a necessary task.  
  
He rose, dressed for the day, and summoned for a house-elf to deliver tea to his office. On the way from his private chambers to his office and laboratory, he picked up the early morning postal delivery from the small table in his sitting room.  
  
He sorted through the post, and found a small scroll addressed in Mira's handwriting. It said that she would be returning home from London later in the evening, and she would drop the security wards at exactly midnight, so that he could apparate directly to her chambers between patrols of the school grounds. But regretfully, she had family obligations for New Year's Eve, and would be spending the night at her cousin's house outside of London.  
  
The professor replied, letting her know that he would be arriving just after midnight; but could stay only a short time, as he had to walk another patrol at one in the morning. And, that if she would send an owl to him when she returned home on New Year's Day, they could meet for a little while then as well. He summoned a house-elf and sent the scroll on it's way to the owlery.  
  
Correspondence complete, he set about finishing his lesson plan for the advanced Potions classes. With the rest of the students returning from the holidays in less than two weeks, he wanted to get the paperwork done and out of the way. After supper, he would start walking patrols of the school grounds. With any luck, he hoped to catch Crabbe and Goyle getting up to some rule breaking after curfew, so that he would have an excuse to confine them to their dormitory on New Year's Eve.  
  
That afternoon, at the Malfoy family estate, Narcissa sat alone in her chambers, regretting her involvement in her husband's plan to return the Dark Lord to the physical realm. Lucius had been in earlier in the day, to deliver the last of her fertility potions. He had spent the past few hours in his basement workroom, creating a charm to alter Narcissa's voice just enough for her to pass herself off convincingly as Mira.  
  
Narcissa's housemaid, Cassie, delivered the bundle of items she had stolen from Mira's above-shop apartments while she was at the tavern, having her study session with Hermione. Cassie had taken a robe, some assorted personal items, and a pair of slippers. She had tried to find a cloak, but was warned away by the groundskeeper before she had a chance to locate one. Narcissa sent her to fetch a plain cloak from the cook.  
  
Narcissa sorted through the pile of clothes and other personal effects and sneered as if they were contaminated. Her husband delivered the voice charm to her. He explained that the little silver bauble tied on a ribbon against her throat, would alter her voice enough to pass herself off as Mira, as long as she didn't talk too much or too loudly. Lucius also gave her a piece of parchment with the incantations for the security wards which blocked apparition into or from the building. An advanced unlocking charm would be needed to gain access to the front door as well. Satisfied that his wife would be able to master the wards, and that the voice charm did indeed work, Lucius left his wife to her thoughts and returned to his secret workroom.  
  
The housemaid tried to deliver supper to Narcissa's chambers; she took the glass of wine from the tray, and chased the girl away. Narcissa locked the doors to her chambers and rummaged through the drawer of her dressing table. She removed two small vials of potion. The blue one was a mild sedative; the violet one was an emotion-dulling potion. She added a few drops of each potion to her glass of wine and drank it down quickly. She lay back against the pile of pillows at the head of her bed, and waited for the drink to take effect.  
  
Mira, Hermione, and Tricia headed to the movie theater, weary from a day of shopping. Mira bought tickets for a popular romantic comedy that she felt both girls would enjoy. After the movie was over, they took a cab back to the Leaky Cauldron. Hermione thanked Mira for the fun day, and wished Tricia a good spring term at Beauxbatons. Mira paid the cab driver to drive Hermione on to her house. She and Tricia went into the tavern, and shared some cocoa while waiting for the appointed time when they would take the floo fireplace to Susan and Albert's house.  
  
They just had time to finish their cocoa when the hour arrived for Mira to take her cousin's daughter home. She sent Tricia on through the floo network first, and followed up behind her a few seconds later. They arrived in the main drawing room at the Treadles' new home, just outside of London. Susan was sitting and listening to the Wizarding Wireless, and awaiting their arrival. Albert, she explained, would be home shortly. He had a business meeting with a wool merchant in Scotland that afternoon that was expected to be a little late.  
  
The Treadle family housekeeper, Prudencia Trount, was busy in the kitchen preparing the evening meal. "Pru" was a fairly new addition to the family. This house was significantly larger than the one Susan and Albert had lived in outside of Hogsmeade, and with a bigger house, came bigger chores. Because they weren't an old noble wizarding family, the Treadles didn't have a family house-elf. The tailor-elves were passed down to Albert from his father, who purchased them along with the workshop back in the 1920's. But, Prudencia was a content little old witch, who served the family with pride.  
  
Susan sent Tricia upstairs with her and Mira's shopping, and told her to wash up and change into her robe for supper. Susan asked Mira how their day went, and whether Hermione make a good impression on Tricia. Mira assured her that Tricia and Hermione hit it off quite well despite Tricia's disdain for old musty bookstores, and Hermione's discomfort with trendy fashion boutiques. Susan offered her cousin a sweet from a large crystal bowl on the tea table.  
  
"By the way, Mira. I forgot to tell you. Albert and I are hosting a little party here on New Year's Eve, and we were so hoping that you would be able to join us. It's nothing fancy, just cocktails and dinner for around twelve people. It'll be mostly wizards that Albert does business with, and their wives. But a couple of the men are widowers, and it wouldn't do to not have a female tablemate for them to chat with, now would it?"  
  
"I don't think so, not this time at least. I have plans for late that night already."  
  
"Oh. I see. Well, I already promised that sweet old Danforth Fletcher that you'd be there. He's a fan of the United States wizarding culture, and was looking forward to discussing a trip he took to New Orleans once with you. Couldn't you just come for drinks and supper? You can leave early enough to meet your gentleman friend if your plans weren't 'till late anyway."  
  
"I don't know. I'm in a relationship already, and we wouldn't want to give any of Albert's gentleman associates the wrong idea, now would we?"  
  
"Well, you're not engaged to him; so in my book that means it's perfectly appropriate for you to socialize unescorted, and to share some pleasant dinner conversation with other gentlemen. Please, just for drinks and dinner? You'll be gone by ten or eleven."  
  
"I don't know Susan. I thought we've been through this before, I'm very happy with him."  
  
"Mirabelle, it's not a date, it's dinner. Why are you being so difficult? Besides, it'll do you good to socialize with a better element of wizarding society. You spend way too much time in those taverns and hanging around with other shopkeepers."  
  
"I don't know. We'll see. If I come, it's just for a drink and dinner, and then I'm outta here."  
  
The floo fireplace flared to life, and Albert stepped off of the hearth, and into the drawing room.  
  
"Albert! Good news! Mira is coming for New Year's Eve. She can only stay through supper, but she'll be here."  
  
Mira shot her cousin a nasty glare and smiled wanly at Albert.  
  
"Jolly good Mirabelle! I'll be sure to let old Danforth know. After Susan told him how much in common the two of you had, he's been very eager to meet you."  
  
Susan smiled innocently and shrugged her shoulders at Mira.  
  
"I think I'm going to go upstairs and freshen up and change for supper now."  
  
Mira got up from her chair and flounced out of the room and up the stairs to the guest suite. She caught Tricia hurrying back to her room. The girl had been eavesdropping on the staircase landing. Mira found her robe laid out on the guest bed, and her other items had been stored away in the guest suite wardrobe. She hung the fleece wrap in the wardrobe and pulled her muggle clothes and boots off. She went into the bathroom and splashed her face with water, to cool down from her confrontation with Susan over the dinner party. Susan had left a tray of grooming potions and fancy toiletries out on a small stand next to the sink. Mira picked a few items up from the tray and carried them into the main bedchamber, where she sat in front of the dressing table in her slip and stockings, trying to do something with her hair.  
  
She had just finished pulling it back with a pair of combs, when she heard a faint knock at the door.  
  
"Who's there? Pru?"  
  
"It's me, Auntie Belle. Can I come in?"  
  
"Sure, come on in."  
  
The girl entered the room and quietly closed the door behind her. She had on one of her velvet-trimmed wizarding robes, with her hair back in a matching velvet ribbon. Tricia sat on the edge of the guest bed, behind Mira.  
  
"I heard you and mum talking in the drawing room. You're coming for New Year's Eve?"  
  
"Well, I suppose I am, aren't I. Your mother pretty much decided for me."  
  
"You don't want to spend New Year's Eve with us Auntie Belle?"  
  
"Oh no, Tricia. It's not that at all. I would love to spend New Year's Eve with you and Albert and Susan. I just don't want to be set up with any of your father's business associates. I'm sure they're nice men and all, but you know I'm already seeing somebody, and it's just not right for your mother to keep setting up introductions like that. It's not fair to the men, it's not fair to me."  
  
Mira opened one of the small potion vials marked "blushing bloom for the cheeks and lips" and applied a dab to her lips. The potion did what it promised, a rosy blush appeared instantly on her lips and caused a pleasant tingling sensation. The potion tasted faintly of berries. A dab of perfume, and she was ready to dress for dinner.  
  
Mira got up from the dressing table and sat next to Tricia on the large four-poster bed. Tricia turned to her "auntie" and noticed the diamond brooch on the ribbon around her neck.  
  
"Wow! Auntie Belle! Where'd you get that? Is it real?"  
  
"What? Oh. You mean my brooch. It was a present. And that's a rude thing to ask, whether somebody's jewelry is real or not. I mean; does it really matter as long as it's pretty?"  
  
"I'm sorry Auntie Belle. Is it rude to ask who gave it to you?"  
  
"No sweetie, that's not a rude question at all. Professor Snape gave it to me when I spent Christmas with him at Hogwarts."  
  
"Wow. Has mum seen it?"  
  
"No, she hasn't. But maybe she should."  
  
"It's beautiful. Mum doesn't have anything like that."  
  
"Doesn't she? Well then, I definitely have to wear it where she can see it."  
  
Mira pulled her robe on over her head, and adjusted the cuffs and collar. She unpinned the brooch from the ribbon, and pinned it to the front of her robe, beneath the collar. She slipped on her slippers and tucked the green ribbon into her pocket. There was another knock on the door. Prudencia called out that dinner would be served shortly.  
  
"Come on kiddo, let's go eat."  
  
Tricia bounced off of the bed and took Mira's hand, and the two went downstairs to supper. Susan and Albert were already at the smaller informal round dining table. Mira took a seat across from her cousin. Susan glanced up and looked at a smirking Tricia and to Mira. Her attention caught by the jewel Mira was wearing.  
  
"Mirabelle, that's quite a fancy little brooch you've got there. Did you get it at one of those stylish little boutiques that Tricia loves so much? They've got the most precious costume jewelry, don't they?"  
  
"Actually, it was a Christmas present. The professor from Hogwarts that I've been seeing gave it to me. It's apparently an old family piece, belonged to his mother."  
  
"Oh. I see then. How lovely."  
  
Susan looked away with a pursed look on her face, and made pleasant small talk for the rest of the meal. Afterwards, she curtly made her excuses and retired to her chambers for the evening. Albert went to his study for an after dinner drink, and Tricia led Mira back upstairs to show her the presents she had received for Christmas. They sat and played a wizarding version of jacks for a while. The jacks were enchanted to jump around, which made the game much harder. At ten o' clock, Prudencia knocked on the door and told Mira that it was Tricia's bedtime, Susan wanted her to have a good night's sleep. Mira kissed Tricia on the head and returned to the guest chambers. She sat up and read the latest issue of Witch Weekly before extinguishing the lamps and crawling into bed. After a day of keeping up with two teenaged girls, she was quite ready for a sound sleep. 


	54. It is Twice the Pleasure to Deceive the ...

Author's Notes: The Malfoys' plot comes to fruition. A peek into Narcissa's psyche to see just what her motivations are. Note: There is nonconsensual sex of a deceptive nature in this chapter.  
  
Disclaimers: Nothing from the books and/or movies belongs to me.  
  
Chapter 54: It is Twice the Pleasure to Deceive the Deceiver  
  
Narcissa Malfoy stirred at the sound of knocking on the door of her chambers. She rose and unlocked the door; her husband's valet handed her a wooden box and left without saying a word. Narcissa opened the box to find a scroll of parchment, a bottle of polyjuice potion, and a small vial containing several hairs. She set the box down on her dressing table and unrolled the parchment scroll. Her husband, Lucius, had written it to give her last minute instructions. She was to refrain from making any unnecessary conversation. If asked, she had been in London shopping with her cousin's daughter and a female student from Hogwarts. She would be spending New Year's Eve in London with her family, and would not return until sometime the next day.  
  
Lucius also wrote that there was enough potion and hairs for two doses, in case the plan went somehow awry and Narcissa needed to maintain the ruse longer than an hour. He expressed his regret that he wouldn't be able to come to Hogsmeade himself, but the groundskeeper would be delivering her to and from the village in their carriage. He ended the note saying that she needed to start making preparations, she would be sent for at eleven.  
  
Narcissa took a little while to collect her thoughts regarding the task she faced in less than two hours. She packed a bag with the potion, vial of hairs, and stolen clothes. Preparations made, she mixed another dose of emotion numbing potion and sat by the fire, waiting for the clock to strike eleven.  
  
At eleven exactly, her husband's valet knocked on the door again. She unlocked and opened it.  
  
"It's time milady, the carriage is at the door."  
  
Narcissa nodded her head, fetched the bag, and pulled the cook's plain hooded cloak on to conceal her identity. Her housemaid was nowhere to be found, and Lucius did not emerge from his study to bid her good luck. She shut and locked the door to her chambers behind her, and followed the valet downstairs to the carriage. After helping her up and into the seat, the groundskeeper climbed up onto the driver's seat, and with a flick of his wand, the carriage disapparated away into the cold December night.  
  
With a loud crack, the carriage apparated to a dimly lit alleyway a few doors down from the tailor shop. Hidden in the shadows, the dark carriage was invisible to casual passers by. The groundskeeper climbed down from the driver's seat, and helped Narcissa from the carriage. She pulled the hood up to conceal her face, and pulled the cloak tightly against her body before heading to the tailor shop.  
  
At the door, she pulled the piece of parchment from her pocket, and reviewed the unlocking charm. Inside the shop, she quickly locked the door behind her and cast the anti-appariton wards. She looked around in the dim light to get her bearings. The little stairway to the upstairs apartment was located in the back room. Silently, she crept across the floor, past the empty owl perch, into the back room. Once upstairs, she lit a fire in the fireplace, and located the different rooms of the above-store flat.  
  
She dropped the bag on the bed, and spent several minutes taking in the sight of Mira's living quarters. Narcissa decided that merchant living quarters were slightly better than servants' quarters, but found the flat to be small and poorly decorated. Aside from an age-worn wardrobe and a shabby Persian rug, there were no furnishings of real quality to be found. A utilitarian brass bed with simple tubular head and footboard took up easily a third of the small bedchamber. The one window was situated awkwardly towards the end of a wall, and the door to the small bathroom was propped open by a scuffed wicker hamper.  
  
Narcissa decided to go ahead and change into the stolen clothes, in preparation for her transformation. She emptied Mira's things from the bag, and hung the cloak on the outside of the wardrobe. She undressed and packed her own clothes, shoes, and rings away in the bag. She put on Mira's robe and set the potion bottle and vial of hair on the side of the small sink basin in the bathroom. Gathering the folds of fabric on the oversized robe up so that she wouldn't trip on the hem, she went into the little kitchen to find a goblet or glass to drink the potion from. While rummaging around in Mira's cabinets, she spotted the bottle of chocolate mead. Wondering how a person of a lower class could afford such a delicacy, she poured a full goblet of it to help get the taste of polyjuice potion out of her mouth after the transformation.  
  
Narcissa sat on the little sofa and watched the flames in the fireplace, losing herself in thought. Even with the emotion-dulling potion, she couldn't help but think about why she had decided to participate in this plan. She also reflected on her choice of partners. Why did she choose him? Why had she allowed her husband to take the plan in this particular direction? There could have been other ways to achieve the same end. Lucius was quite adept with the Imperius curse; why go through this whole deceptive ruse? Was it really about revenge on a woman she hardly knew? Or was it something else?  
  
Hatred, burning as hot as the flames in the fireplace, was her motivation. This was a way to hurt three people for whom she harbored malice in her heart. She hated her husband most of all, and knew that by doing this, she would be twisting two daggers into his heart. Reminding him that he was no longer able to give her a child, and offering herself to one of his most despised rivals. The amount of hatred she harbored in her heart for her first lover surprised her. She finally realized that she hated him because for better or worse, he found a way out and created a new life for himself. He was released from the burdens of a highborn family, and had found a way to slip out of the bonds, which tied him to the Dark Lord. And the woman, well she was merely caught in the middle of it all. Nonetheless, Narcissa despised her for her freedom. Freedom to call the shots in her own life. Freedom to choose whom she would love. Narcissa's hatred for Mira was based in jealousy. Based on the fact that somebody she felt was so far beneath her could have so many of the things which she, herself, could not buy or command.  
  
The clock on the wall read ten minutes to midnight. Narcissa picked up the goblets from the tea table and went back towards the bedchamber. She took the potion bottle, vial, and empty goblet into the bathroom; where she prepared a dose of the potion and drank it down. After the initial wave of nausea, she sat on the edge of the bathtub, awaiting the transformation. Transformation complete, she rinsed out the goblet and hid it, the bottle of potion, and the vial of hairs in the wastebasket just in case she needed to retreat to the bathroom for a renewal dose. Making an effort not to look into the mirror above the sink, Narcissa went back to the bedroom and finished dressing. She slipped on the slippers and hastily pulled her hair back with the black elastic band. She finished up by tying the voice altering charm against her throat. Before lowering the apparation blocking wards, she took a long look in the wardrobe mirror. The clock in the sitting room struck midnight. It was time.  
  
She pulled her wand out of the bag of her own clothes, and performed the spell to drop the apparition wards. She hastily stashed the wand away, and took a large drink of the chocolate mead to help calm her nerves and kill the taste of polyjuice potion that lingered in her mouth. Five minutes passed, and she started to feel as if maybe he was not going to show up. Maybe she would be able to get out of it after all. As she took another large drink of the wine, she heard a popping noise behind her in the sitting room.  
  
Narcissa gasped and turned around quickly, sloshing some of the wine out of the goblet and down her chin. Professor Snape had apparated into the sitting room, and was shaking snow out of his heavy cloak.  
  
"I apologize for being a few minutes late. But I had to escort a pair of students back to their house dormitories. They were under the impression that because it's the holidays, curfew has been relaxed. They claimed to be merely out for a walk, but I'm sure they were up to no good. They were Gryffindors, so of course McGonagall just sent them to bed with a warning."  
  
He hung his cloak and robe on the pegs by the fire, and walked across the room to Narcissa, who was standing in the doorway of the bedroom with the goblet of wine in her right hand, hidden behind her skirt. He took her into his arms and gave her a kiss. She pulled away and watched him tilt his head slightly to the side and lick his lips.  
  
"You've been into the chocolate mead again, haven't you?"  
  
She nodded her head and handed him the goblet. He drank down what was left and set it on a small table next to the door.  
  
" I regret that I couldn't get away for longer, I'm really not supposed to leave the school grounds the nights I walk patrols. But, what Dumbledore doesn't know won't hurt him. I have to walk another patrol at one, so I'll need to be leaving a little bit before then to walk from the front gates to the school."  
  
"That's okay, I didn't expect you to be able to stay for more than a half hour or so."  
  
The professor walked over to the sofa and sat down. He beckoned for her to join him.  
  
"Are you coming down with a cold? You sound a little hoarse. Should I have Pomfrey owl you over a cold tonic when I go back to the school?"  
  
"Uh, um. No. No, I'm fine. Just spent too much time out in the cold today, my throat's a little raw."  
  
He took her by the hand, and pulled her down onto his lap. Nervously, she leaned over against his chest, and tucked her knees up against his side  
  
"Did you enjoy your day? Or did those two brats drive you up the wall?"  
  
"Oh. Well, it wasn't so bad. We went shopping."  
  
He brushed a stray lock of hair away from her face, and tucked it behind her ear, Narcissa tensed at his touch.  
  
"Did you get that necklace while you were out?"  
  
Narcissa's hand flew up to her throat, and the voice altering charm.  
  
"Oh. Yes. I forgot I had it on. I got it today at one of the shops in London."  
  
He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, burying his face in the crook of her neck.  
  
"You smell particularly sweet tonight, is that new perfume?"  
  
"Oh, yes, I bought it in London too."  
  
"It reminds me of something. I can't quite figure out what though."  
  
He leaned in for another sniff of the perfume and kissed her on her throat. She let out a little gasp and stiffened in his arms.  
  
"You taste sweet too."  
  
"What? Oh, sorry. You see; I spilled a little bit of the wine on myself. You startled me when you apparated into the room."  
  
"I'm not complaining, it's rather like icing on the cake."  
  
He kissed along the trail of spilled wine, down her throat, and across the top of her chest to the neckline of her robe. When he started to undo the buttons on the robe, Narcissa skittishly jumped off of his lap and took a few steps backwards from the sofa. Professor Snape rose and quickly crossed the floor towards her, as she continued to back away from him, into the bedroom.  
  
"I haven't forgotten the effect chocolate mead has on you. No need to be coy with me. Besides, we don't have any time to spare."  
  
In three quick steps, he was across the room and on her. He grasped her shoulders and backed her the rest of the way into the bedroom. He pulled her towards him and kissed her hungrily on the mouth while fumbling with the elastic band in her hair. He struggled to unbutton his tunic jacket with one hand while using the other to pull her head back by her hair, so that he could gain better access to her throat. Narcissa gasped in fear and excitement as he bit down teasingly on the tender skin below her chin. He pushed her back onto the bed, and climbed on top of her. He unbuttoned her robe to the waist, and pushed it open off of her shoulders. She bit her bottom lip and closed her eyes as he ran his hands over her body, gently squeezing her breasts and pressing them together. It felt good. Despite herself, she was becoming quite aroused and enjoyed the new sensations that this strange body was causing her to feel.  
  
He kneeled back on his heels and pulled her slippers off of her feet, and tossed them into the corner. He reached under her skirt and pushed it up around her waist. Realizing that she was wearing nothing at all under her robe, he hastily unbuttoned his trousers and fell upon her, pushing her knees back, and kissing her on the mouth and neck. Her body stiffened and she cried out in surprise as he entered her and started to make love slowly but powerfully. He raised his face from her neck and whispered in her ear.  
  
"I'm not hurting you am I?"  
  
"Uh-uh."  
  
He lowered his face back to the crook of her neck, and she felt his warm breath against her skin. "Merlin, but it felt good!" She thought to herself.  
  
Narcissa looked past his shoulder and spotted a faint glowing coming from up in the top of the curtains. She gasped again, in shock, over what it was. Lucius was watching them with his far-seeing crystal. Strangely, she found that she didn't particularly care. Whether it was a combination of the wine and potions she had taken that night, or just a sense of complete apathy, she no longer cared about his perversions. "A show he wants, a show he shall get!" She thought to herself, as she shed her inhibitions and threw herself completely into her role as deceiver. Narcissa started to make love back, with abandon, as she had never allowed herself to do with her husband.  
  
The start of her climax caught her off guard. It had been so long since she actually experienced it, that at first she was afraid that something had gone wrong with the potion. Before she had a chance to catch her breath, she felt his breathing change tempo to shallow rapid gasps as he followed behind. He collapsed onto her chest, panting heavily into her ear.  
  
She lay beneath him for some time, absentmindedly running her fingers through his long hair. She wondered if after it was all said and done, and when she assumed her role as queen mother of the wizarding world, would she be able to seduce him back to the Dark Lord, and make him her consort?  
  
He shifted his weight off of her and purred into her ear. "Bloody Hell Mira, that was good. That chocolate mead has a most pleasant effect on you."  
  
Narcissa looked out the door of the bedroom into the sitting room and saw the clock on the wall. It read twenty to one. She had ten minutes before the potion would wear off. She slid out from under the professor's arm and fetched his cloak and robe from the sitting room.  
  
"I hate to be so abrupt, but you've been here almost an hour, and I'd hate to get you into trouble with the headmaster on my account."  
  
He pulled his pocket watch from his pocket and checked the time. "Damn!"  
  
He stood up and quickly buttoned his trousers and over-tunic. Narcissa handed him his robe, and then his heavy woolen cloak. He pulled her close and gave her a lingering kiss.  
  
"You know you're more to me than just a lover, don't you Mira?"  
  
Uncomfortably, she shifted her weight from one foot to the other and looked down at the floor. He tilted her chin upwards to look her in the eyes.  
  
"I love you Mira, and I know I don't tell you as often as I should. I just want you to know that you're everything to me."  
  
He kissed her again and smiled at her. Narcissa tried not to let the shock show on her face; she had never, ever seen anything but a sarcastic sneering smirk cross his face before that moment. He went into the sitting room and straightened out his cloak and prepared to disapparate.  
  
"Owl me when you get home from your cousin's house on New Year's Day."  
  
He lifted the hood of his cloak and with a popping noise he disapparated from the sitting room. Narcissa ran to the far side of the bed and snatched her wand out of the bag of her clothes. She cast the anti- apparition wards to make sure that for whatever reason, he didn't return as she reverted to her normal appearance. She felt the strange sensation of shrinking down into herself, and sat on the edge of the bed until it passed. She quickly pulled Mira's robe off and tossed it into the hamper. She placed the slippers in the wardrobe, and dressed in her own clothes. Before leaving, she packed away the potion bottle and vial of hair in her bag, and rinsed and replaced the two goblets from where she had found them. She quickly straightened the bed linens, and took one last look around the room to make sure that nothing was out of place. Before leaving the bedroom, she turned and stared in the direction of the far-seeing crystal and laughed a hearty, wicked laugh.  
  
Narcissa pulled the cloak on, and raised the hood. She picked up her wand and the bag and headed down the stairs into the tailor shop. She paused inside the door, to make sure the streets were deserted. Quietly, she slipped out the front door, and re-locked it with a charm. She returned to the alley where the carriage was parked and knocked on the door. The groundskeeper emerged, took her bag, and helped her up to her seat. He shut the door, and disapparated the carriage back to the Malfoy estate.  
  
Once she arrived home, Narcissa quickly climbed the stairs to her chambers and locked herself in. She drew her own bath and soaked in the warmth, still in a daze from what she had done. Even with the fertility-enhancing potion, it would be twenty- four hours before a pregnancy detection spell could be performed. But, as she drifted off to sleep after her bath, she felt the faint cramping sensation of new life taking hold within her. 


	55. The Closing of the Year

Author's Notes: Sorry it has been so long since my last update. I just haven't been in the mood to write. Too much work to do, computer problems, sick with the summertime flu, etc. Yeah, yeah, yeah. Excuses. I am going to finish the story as-is and then re-write it. My wonderful net-friend who is a published author was so generous as to read this story, despite her usual rule against reading fan-fic. She gave me some good advice, and I really think I can make this story better and less rambling with a re- write. The basic plot will stay, but lots of extraneous stuff will be cut, and it will possibly be updated to no longer come into such serious conflict with the Harry Potter canon anymore. (It was started before book 5 was released.)  
  
It's winding down towards the end of the story. So, hang in there. This chapter is pretty low-rated, but a bit of squicky sexual innuendo and advances towards the end. I don't hate Mira, I loooooove her. I just like to mess with her here and there. It's not really all that relevant to the story, but it was an interesting chapter to write. Dealing a little with wizarding social strata and social mores. Kind of exploring the wizarding world equivalent of the yuppie lifestyle. Another "orphan" chapter I wasn't quite sure if I wanted to include or not. It's long, and a bit rambly and not really relevant to the rest of the story, but here it is. Hope you enjoy.  
  
Please write a review if you like what you see. Even if you don't. Just try and refrain from flat out snarkiness and pettiness. Constructive criticism is certainly welcome.  
  
Disclaimers: If you recognize it from the books and movies, it's not my intellectual property, and no ownership is implied.  
  
Chapter 25: The Closing of the Year.  
  
Mira woke to the aroma of cooking wafting upstairs from the kitchen in her cousin's house. The housekeeper was preparing a hearty English breakfast for the family, as was their custom. Mira rose from the cozy bed, and got herself ready for the day. As she was fussing with her hair at the dressing table, Tricia knocked on the door to the guest suite, to ask if her Auntie Belle would be joining the family for breakfast.  
  
Mira gathered her things and followed her cousin's daughter downstairs to breakfast. The informal table was set formally with starched linens and floral patterned china. Grandmother Eloise's heirloom silver tea service sat in the middle of the table, surrounded by silver platters of all manner of Wizarding delicacies. Mira greeted her cousin and Albert, set her cloak and overnight bag on the sofa, and sat down at the table. She helped herself to the sausages, and toast with pumpkin butter while her cousin poured the tea.  
  
Susan was bubbling with excitement over the party. The last two response cards had arrived with the morning owls. Pru was already off to the market, shopping for the party. Fresh flowers would be delivered early in the afternoon, the harpist would arrive an hour before the guests to receive Susan's list of preferred tunes. Mira realized very quickly that this was not going to be an intimate dinner party for business associates, but a full-blown formal dinner party to impress and further the Treadles' social status.  
  
After breakfast, Susan bustled Mira to the fireplace and told her to be back at the house promptly at seven o' clock, as cocktails would be poured at seven thirty, and dinner would be served a half hour later. Mira reached for a handful of floo powder, and Susan grabbed her arm.  
  
"Mirabelle, do visit the salon today, and have your hair fixed. Do you have a robe to wear, or should I arrange something appropriate to be sent from the workshop for you?"  
  
"Susan. Stop. I have a robe to wear, and I am capable of fixing my own hair."  
  
"Oh Mira, you can just have the salon put it on my account. Anything you want. Hair, manicure, makeup, or the whole treatment if you wish. Albert won't notice when the bill arrives in the post."  
  
"Susan, don't. It's not a money issue; I simply do not have time for that kind of preparation. I promise to arrive properly dressed and groomed at the appointed time. But you need to back off."  
  
"Sorry, sorry, I was merely trying to help. I forgot how independent you are. But at least let me send a portcarriage to pick you up this evening. The seers are predicting nasty weather this evening, I'd hate for you to have to walk from the shop to a public floo outlet."  
  
"Fine. I have no problem accepting that kind of offer. Have the carriage arrive just before seven, I'll be watching for it."  
  
Mira brusquely tossed the floo powder into the fire and exited at the public floo fireplace located in the Hogsmeade train station. She cursed under her breath over the weather, and hurried across the village to the tailor shop, thinking that there had to be a way to keep specific floo connections open while blocking general access to the tailor shop's fireplace. Had it not been so early, she would have simply exited the network at the café across the street from the tailor shop. But, being the eve of a holiday, she didn't want to risk it being closed or jammed up with traffic and winding up at the next available public floo connection. She stepped off a curb and into a puddle of icy slush, and cursed the professor for making her promise to keep her floo network closed outside of the tailor shop's business hours, as a safety precaution.  
  
She arrived back at the tailor shop, which was closed for the holiday, and would not open until January second. She unlocked the door, and greeted Swiftfeather, who angrily shook his feathers out at her, because his water cup had gone dry. Mira apologized, and refilled the little brass cup, using her wand to magically sweep up the feathers, which had fallen to the floor. On the counter, next to the till was a note from Maddie. The previous day had gone very well, all the custom orders for New Year parties had been collected, and several dress robes were sold off the racks. Mira put the parchment back on the counter; she would deal with the bookkeeping later. Gringott's wouldn't be open for a few days anyway, so the deposit could wait.  
  
She carried her bag and cloak upstairs and lit the fire in her sitting room. After depositing the bag on her bed and hanging her cloak on the corner of the bathroom door, she started rummaging through her wardrobe for an appropriate robe to wear to the dinner party. She pulled out the shimmering dance robe from the Harvest Festival dance, but decided it was too flashy and risqué' to wear to a holiday dinner party. The red Christmas robe seemed a bit much as well, but it was all she had.  
  
With a sigh, Mira closed the wardrobe door and shuffled back down the stairs to see if there was anything in her size left on the racks, which could be borrowed for the party. She found two robes, neither exactly what she would have otherwise chosen, but very easily alterable. One was hopelessly matronly, dark blue crepe with heavy black braid and a loosely cut silhouette. The other had potential; garnet colored velvet with a wide deep neckline. Mira snatched a sparkly gold scarf out of the basket by the window and headed back to the stairs. She spied a scroll on the floor next to Swiftfeather's perch, and recognized it as a Hogwarts scroll. She picked it up, and returned to her upstairs lodgings  
  
She hung the robes on her wardrobe and opened the scroll. It was a note from the professor, written hastily judging from the messy handwriting, letting her know that he would apparate directly into her apartment at one o' clock in the morning, after his midnight patrol of the grounds was complete. The note advised her not to send a reply, because the scroll could find it's way to the headmaster. And strictly speaking, the professor wasn't supposed to leave the school grounds between patrols. Mira tossed the scroll on her dresser and turned her attentions to more pressing matters, making herself presentable for her cousin's party.  
  
She tried on the robe she found down in the shop's stock. It was snug. But with her old fashioned corset, it would fit just fine. The sleeves were too short, and the neckline a bit too open for modesty's sake, but Mira had a plan. She cut the gold scarf into three pieces. She gathered and stitched the two shorter pieces onto the sleeves like bunched up ruffs to extend their length. And the long section was gathered and stitched in place around the neckline, filling it in some for modesty. Satisfied with her handiwork, she decided to take a long hot bath before it was time to get ready for the party.  
  
Mira lay in the bath, reading a trashy muggle novel, and sipping chamomile tea. Her head was covered in large curlers, in an attempt to rein in her unruly locks. She was also making use of the vial of "Pretty as Porcelain" complexion potion that she lifted from the basket of toiletries in Susan's guest bathroom. After a good long soak, she dried off and sat in front of the fire, reading in her book, until it was time to get ready for the party.  
  
She wrestled with the archaic underpinnings required for fitted classical style robes, and corset tightened, she sat at the dressing table to fix her hair and makeup. Hair tamed and coiffed, face fixed, and the diamond brooch framed by the neckline of the robe; she picked up her little bag and headed downstairs to wait for the carriage.  
  
While biding her time, she applied some perfume from one of the testers, and fetched her good cloak from the back room. With a loud cracking noise, followed by the jingle of sleigh bells, the portcarriage appeared outside the front door of the shop. Ingenious inventions, portcarriages were the wizarding version of a limousine. While some highborn families had carriages drawn by actual enchanted horses or other magical beasts, portcarriages could be used like portkeys, to transport people and goods from one location to another almost instantaneously. Very few families owned them; not many more could afford to hire them. Albert most likely had use of this carriage as one of the perks of a lucrative business deal.  
  
The driver, a smallish wizard in colorful livery, descended from a small seat outside the cabin of the carriage and waited for Mira to exit the shop and lock the door. He bowed to her with a flourish of his top hat, and with a flick of his wand, the door to the carriage opened and a set of ornate brass steps descended for her to climb in. The interior was like a little jewel box. Deep green velvet upholstery, and ornate brass fittings. With another tip of his hat, the driver clambered back to his seat and with a short incantation and wave of his wand, the portcarriage disappeared with a loud crack. After what seemed like seconds, but in reality was probably an imperceptible amount of time, the portcarriage reappeared behind a tall hedge, at the side entrance of the Treadle family home. This close to muggle London, the family needed to employ a little discretion in order to conceal magical comings and goings.  
  
The driver opened the door and extended his hand to help Mira from the carriage, and tipped his hat one last time as the side door of her cousin's home opened. Prudencia, the housekeeper, was dressed in formal black serving robes with heavily starched white linen cuffs and collar. A starched white linen hat perched on her head. She wore a pristine white linen apron around her waist to complete the effect.  
  
"Do come in Miss DelMare. Mistress is still upstairs and would like to see you before she comes down."  
  
Mirabelle laughed inwardly as she handed her cloak to the old woman.  
  
"Mistress indeed!"  
  
She showed herself into the house, and waved at Albert, who was pouring a glass of brandy for a stately looking old wizard in an old fashioned muggle tuxedo with shiny leather boots on his feet. The harpist was positioned in the corner, just outside the dining room, playing softly. She continued on up the stairs and found her cousin at her dressing table, fretting over her hair.  
  
"Mirabelle! Just the person I need. Which do you like better? The combs or the tiara?"  
  
"Errr. you don't think a tiara is a bit much, Suzie?"  
  
"Oh, Mira. It's a party! It's New Year's Eve! Of course it's not too much. Or is it?"  
  
"Honestly? Yeah, it is."  
  
Susan made a sniffing noise and placed the tiara back in its case. She started brushing and arranging her hair for the combs. Mira sat on the edge of the bed, admiring the elaborate damask robe laid out for her cousin. Thinking that even Narcissa Malfoy would turn green with envy over such a robe. If nothing else, Susan knew how to make an entrance.  
  
"Is there anything else I can help you with? Where's Tricia? In her room?"  
  
"Oh, yes, she's in her room. She'll be joining us for the meal, but that's all. If you want you can go see if she's starting to get ready, and then head downstairs and help Albert greet the guests."  
  
Mira stood up and walked to the girl's room. Tricia was sitting on her bed, pouting over being excluded from all but the meal.  
  
"Hey there kiddo, why the sad face?"  
  
"Mum told me I couldn't come down early or stay after we ate. She said it was grown ups time, and I wasn't old enough yet."  
  
"I'll tell you what. You be good at supper, and I'll sneak back up here and we can go on the balcony and see the fireworks at midnight. How about that? I might even sneak you up a glass of champagne if you promise not to tell."  
  
The girl smiled and hugged her "aunt". Mira kissed Tricia on the forehead and waved at her as she shut the door and headed to the stairs. Downstairs, she found Albert and about half of the guests, mingling in the sitting parlor. A short and stout wizard with red cheeks and a bulbous nose leapt up from the sofa and hurried towards Mira.  
  
"You must be Mirabelle. Susan has told me so much about you, I have been counting the days until the end of the month so that I could finally meet you."  
  
He extended his hand to Mira, and warily she reached out to shake it. To her horror, he took her hand and kissed it instead. His lips were cool and rubbery and she had to fight to suppress a shudder. Albert, who had been caught in conversation with a stylish couple in classical style robes, rushed over.  
  
"Oh, I see you two have already met. Very good. Mirabelle, this is my friend and associate, Danforth Fletcher. Danforth, this is my dearest wife's cousin, Mirabelle DelMare."  
  
Mira forced a smile and looked back to Albert with a pleading look in her eyes. Albert cleared his throat and straightened his jacket lapels.  
  
"Very well then. I know you two have lots to talk about, so I'll just leave you to it."  
  
Mira shot the younger man dagger eyes as he hastily retreated towards the kitchen to check on the housekeeper. Fletcher took her by the arm and led her to a settee against the back wall of the sitting room. Mira primly sat on the edge of the small sofa with her knees together and her hands planted palm down on her lap.  
  
"Would you like a drink, love? Albert has a bottle of very smooth red currant rum. Shall I fetch you a glass?"  
  
"Oh no, drinks aren't to be served until everybody has arrived. And I think the last guests are just leaving their cloaks with Pru."  
  
"Albert and I go way back, he won't mind if I nip into his study and help myself to a drink or two."  
  
"Okay, but just a small one. I don't want to get too tipsy before the party even starts."  
  
Danforth grunted as he hoisted himself up from the soft cushions. Mira did not like this Mr. Fletcher one bit. He was a lecherous old toad who definitely had an agenda for the evening. After the man hurried to fetch the drinks from Albert's study, there was silence; and then a chorus of whispers, punctuated by a gasp or two. Susan had appeared at the top of the stairs in her party finery. The sparkling tiara perched proudly on top of her head. Oh, but the woman knew how to make an entrance. Mira thought that her cousin must be the reincarnation of a grand Southern Belle. As the harpist resumed playing, she descended the stairs, gemstones and gold thread glittering in the gaslight of the wall sconces. The robe looked like something off of a medieval tapestry and upstaged every other woman at the party.  
  
The queen of the castle amongst her subjects, the party officially began. Fletcher wound his way through the cluster of people who were gathering around Susan like so many moths to a flame. He sat back down next to Mira and handed her a dainty stemmed glass containing a deep reddish brown liquid. He took a large sip from his own glass and sat back, letting his left knee touch her leg. Mira stiffened and shifted on the small sofa, crossing her legs, so that she was no longer in physical contact with him. He drained his glass, placed it on a little table next to the settee, and yawned deeply. Slyly, as he reached to stretch, he brought his left arm down behind Mira's shoulder, and scooted ever so slightly closer to her.  
  
"Enjoying the rum, love?"  
  
"It certainly is smooth. Not too sweet and not overly dry at all. Tart too. I will have to ask Albert where he bought it. Oh look! I think Susan is beckoning to me. Why don't you go mingle while I see what she wants, and we'll continue our conversation in a little bit."  
  
Before the wizard could protest, Mira was quickly making her way across the large room to the cluster of people gathered around the host and hostess. She pretended to mingle, and when she saw Fletcher start to approach the crowd, she slipped into the kitchen under the wary eye of the housekeeper.  
  
"You need any help in here Pru?"  
  
"Thank you no, Miss, I am more than capable of managing."  
  
Mira smiled at the old woman. As soon as she turned back to the oven, Mira slipped through the servers' entrance into the formal dining room. The table was set lavishly with silver, crystal, and fine china. Elaborate arrangements of flowers were clustered around the table, on ornate brass stands, and on the sideboard at the back of the room. Bundles of flowers even hung from the chandelier by shimmering gold ribbons. Mira quickly made her way around the large table, looking for her and Fletcher's place cards, to make sure they would not be seated together. Just as she spied her name written on a tiny scroll of parchment, she heard Pru coming from the kitchen. Mira ducked out of the way behind an enormous vase of flowers on a tall stand, and sneaked out of the dining room while the old housekeeper had her back turned. Mira returned to the party, and was cornered by her cousin. Susan asked her to go fetch Tricia, as they were to begin seating for supper shortly.  
  
Fletcher intercepted Mira on her way to the staircase. He asked her where she was going, and she explained that she was doing a favor for Susan. The older wizard said he would see her shortly and reached out and patted her on the backside as she stepped onto the stairs. Mira turned around, a shocked look on her face, and the old goat gave her a lecherous grin and headed back to the party. She stomped up the stairs and knocked on the girl's door.  
  
Tricia opened the door, and Mira charged in and flung herself back on the girl's bed.  
  
"Tricia, listen to me child. Do not ever, and I do mean ever, allow Danforth Fletcher to be alone with you. Do you understand me?"  
  
"Sure, auntie Belle, but why?"  
  
"Because he is a dirty old man, that's why, and he takes liberties with women."  
  
"Oh. He always seemed creepy to me anyway. I'm glad for a reason to keep my distance from him. Even if he is one of Father's friends."  
  
"Good girl. Come on, your mother sent me to get you, supper is about to be served."  
  
Mira held out her hands, and let Tricia pull her up to a sitting position. She reached back and smoothed her hair, and smoothed her robe. She stood up and took Tricia's hand and led her down to the dining room. Fletcher waved at her and patted the seat of the chair next to him. Tricia went to her mother, who kissed her on the cheek and motioned towards the empty chair between her and Mira.  
  
The guests made small talk between courses, and Mira tried to be cordial but curt with her tablemate. Fletcher was very interested, no make that obsessed with wizarding culture in the United States. He had once visited New Orleans on business, and had found the old city to be very intriguing. He wanted to know more about how the shops with muggle storefronts on one side and wizarding storefronts on the other managed to keep both sides separate. The man had a textile mill full of enchanted textile weaving machines. Machines, which wove enchanted textiles, he clarified. While the notion of self-cleaning shirts and self-pressing trousers was fascinating, Mira stayed aloof. He confessed that he was smitten with the city, and would love to purchase a flat in the wizarding district of New Orleans to use as a vacation home. He suggested that Mira would be just the person to show him around the city once he found a suitable property. Mira replied that she didn't get back home very often these days but could give him contact information on a tour guide who was a wizard. He turned to her with a suggestive leer in his eye.  
  
"Oh, but I'm sure that wizard tour guide isn't anywhere near as interesting as you are."  
  
Fletcher reached under the table and rested his hand on Mira's thigh. He gave it a squeeze and let his fingers wander over the velvet fabric of the robe. Mira choked and dropped her fork. At once, all eyes turned towards her. Tricia leaned forward and tugged on her sleeve.  
  
"Auntie Belle? Are you okay?"  
  
Mira smiled and shook her head.  
  
"Fine, just fine. A bit of pepper tickled my throat, that's all."  
  
The conversation started up again, and Prudencia poured Mira another goblet of water.  
  
"Here, love, drink some water, that should help."  
  
Mira drank the water, and repositioned herself in her seat, hand at her side to fend off wandering hands. She leaned forward to set the goblet down, and the woman seated on the other side of Fletcher caught her attention.  
  
"Miss DelMare, I've been admiring that lovely pendant you're wearing all night. Might I be so bold as to ask where you bought it?"  
  
Mira's hand went to the diamond brooch on the green ribbon.  
  
"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't buy it, it was a gift. My gentleman friend gave it to me for Christmas, and it's been in his family for generations. It is lovely though, isn't it?"  
  
"I say it is. How wonderful that he chose to share something so special with you. He must be quite a man, this gentleman friend of yours."  
  
"Yes, he is. He's definitely one of a kind."  
  
Fletcher raised his eyebrow at Mira and dug into the food on his plate. He cooled off for the most part for the last course of the meal and turned his attention to the man seated two seats down from his, who was very interested in the enchanted textiles. After the last guest finished his holiday pudding, Susan tapped the rim of her goblet with her knife.  
  
"Before we retire to the parlor for aperitifs and music, I'd like to take a moment to thank you all for sharing this special evening with us."  
  
There was a round of salutations at the table. Albert cleared his throat and spoke up as well.  
  
"While we're toasting the evening, let's thank our wonderful cook, Prudencia, who has amazed us with yet another masterful feast."  
  
Pru, who was standing in the doorway, blushed and bowed slightly at the toast and restrained applause before retreating to the kitchen, the glimmer of a tear in her eye. Susan then stood and bid her guests to join her back in the parlor. Mira told Susan that she would see Tricia back upstairs and to bed, but would be back down shortly. She lingered and took her sweet time helping Tricia hang her formal velvet trimmed robe up and brushed out the girl's hair for bed. Prudencia knocked and entered, asking if Mira needed any help, as it was already past Tricia's bedtime. Mira shook her head no, and leaned down to kiss Tricia goodnight. As she bent down, she whispered in the girl's ear.  
  
"Now, don't fall asleep, I'll sneak back up as soon as I can, okay?"  
  
She left the girl's room while Pru extinguished all but the night lamp and spread an extra blanket across the bed. After a brief stop in the guest suite bathroom to freshen up, Mira headed back to the party. As she descended the stairs, Fletcher met her at the landing.  
  
"What's this about a gentleman friend who gives you fine gifts? Susan said you were a single woman. I know you're divorced, but seeing as he was a muggle, it can be overlooked."  
  
"Susan may have told you I was single, but I'm seeing somebody."  
  
"Oh, are you? Well, are you betrothed to him? Have you signed a contract promising yourself to him?"  
  
"No."  
  
"So, technically, you're not taken."  
  
"As far as old-blood wizarding social mores go, then no. But I'm not interested in anybody else."  
  
Fletcher was looking at her with a hard to read expression, when the woman who admired her brooch at supper approached with two other women in tow.  
  
"I hope we're not intruding, but Florentina and Hesperida are both collectors of antique jewelry, and I told them that they simply had to see the piece you're wearing this evening."  
  
The two middle age witches, who Mira recognized as socialite sisters from Witch Weekly, oohed and aahed over the brooch. Mira led them to a small table, used to play cards and other table games, and untied the ribbon so they could examine it more closely. She explained to them what the motto around the stone said, and that the names on the back were the names of women who had worn it. Fearing that one of the women might recognize the professor's mother's name and realize who gave her the brooch, she put it back on, and told the women the story of the dowry stone.  
  
Thoroughly charmed by the romantic story intertwined with the fine piece of jewelry, the women lingered at the games table. Fletcher had long since retreated to have a chat with Albert, uninterested in women's talk. After a discussion on fashion and beauty regimes, the women thanked Mira for letting them admire her brooch and went back to refresh their drinks. Mira sat back in the chair, and let out a sigh. She looked over to see Fletcher approaching her table with two drinks in hand.  
  
"Damn" she snarled under her breath, fearing that she would have to possibly get ugly to set him straight. He sat at the chair closest to her, and handed her a drink. Another glass of currant rum, but this time a much larger glass. He looked closely at the brooch she wore, squinting his watery little eyes as he leaned in.  
  
"Well, if that's the kind of thing you're into love, I can be much more generous than the chap who gave you that little thing."  
  
Mira looked at him with an incredulous look on her face.  
  
"I told you that I'm not looking for anybody else. I'm flattered that you're interested, but I'm seeing somebody and I am very happy with him."  
  
"He never even need know about me, love. I have a posh little flat here in London that I use when I'm in town. We can spend time together there, and nobody will suspect a thing. And like I said, I can be much more generous."  
  
Mira took a large sip of her drink and shook her head.  
  
"I'm sorry, and I really don't want to be any more unpleasant than I have to be, but I'm simply not interested Mr. Fletcher."  
  
The wizard shrugged his shoulders and leaned back in his chair. Mira took another small sip of her rum. It tasted different. She brought it back up and sniffed at it, it smelled different. She swirled the glass around and it had a slightly cloudy look to it, not easily discernable in the larger thicker goblet. Icy tendrils of uneasiness worked their way through her stomach as she realized that the old bastard had put something in her drink.  
  
She looked up at him and he had a strange look on his face. Like a greedy child peering in the window of a candy shop.  
  
"Aren't you going to finish your drink, love? That's much to fine of a vintage to let go to waste."  
  
Mira pretended to take a tiny sip, and smiled at the man. His attention was drawn to a cluster of people who broke out in raucous laughter. Mira seized her chance and dumped most of the drink into a potted fern on a stand next to the gaming table. She raised the glass to her lips as if taking a drink. When Fletcher turned back to her, she set the goblet on the table and reached up to feel her forehead.  
  
"Ooh, I don't think I feel so good. That drink must have been stronger than I expected."  
  
"Oh no love, it's not strong at all. I bet it's the heat from the fireplace that's making you lightheaded. Here, finish your drink, it'll make you feel a little better."  
  
She started fanning her face with her hand and got up from the little table. Fletcher took her by the arm and waist and steered her over to the settee in the corner again.  
  
"Here love, sit down where it's soft."  
  
He sat down next to her, and slipped his arm around her waist. Mira pretended to be woozy and leaned away from him.  
  
"Are you going to be okay? Do you need to go home? I have a carriage on call, just say the word and I'll summon it and get you home and make sure you're going to be okay."  
  
"Maybe you should go get my cousin, Mr. Fletcher. I think I've had too much drink and rich food. I really feel dizzy."  
  
"Oh no, love. Let's not go bother your cousin on her big night. I can take care of you."  
  
Mira snorted and thought to herself: "I bet you think you can take care of me, you dirty old bastard."  
  
She rose and pretended to walk on wobbly legs towards the staircase. Fletcher jumped up and reached around her waist to steady her, his fingers straying a little farther up her chest than need be.  
  
"That's it, let me help you upstairs and find you a nice cool place to lie down. We'll get you out of that hot dress so that you can breathe more easily."  
  
Quickly, Mira changed tactics and doubled over, clutching her stomach.  
  
"Oh no. I don't feel so good. I think I'm going to be sick."  
  
She made a nasty gagging noise and the wizard released his grip on her and stepped back. She lunged up the stairs and into Tricia's room, where she quickly shut and locked the door behind her. Tricia bolted upright in bed and looked towards the door.  
  
"Auntie Belle?"  
  
"Yeah, sorry for startling you kiddo. Can I hide out here with you? Mr. Fletcher was very nasty with me down there, and I had to get away from him before things got out of control."  
  
"Oh, Auntie Belle, go tell Father! Tell him that creepy old man was rude to you."  
  
"It's not like that Tricia, for what it's worth, Fletcher is a very important business contact for your father, and I can't risk causing a problem for him. If I try and have Albert get involved, it'll make Mr. Fletcher cross with him. I got away from him, he won't bother me anymore tonight. He thinks I got sick."  
  
"You should tell Professor Snape to put a hex on him. I bet he knows lots of them. He always threatened us with them when we got too loud in class."  
  
Mira smirked and climbed onto the bed with Tricia.  
  
"Yep, he knows some pretty nasty magic alright. But I don't want to worry him with this, he has enough on his mind with the new term starting and all."  
  
"He's not really as mean as he pretends to be, is he?"  
  
"No. Not really. Not to me at least. But you didn't hear that from me kiddo. You go blabbing that the Hogwarts Potions Master has a soft spot for his sweetheart, and his hexes will be the least of your worries. Got that missy?"  
  
Tricia giggled and tossed a pillow at Mira. She tucked it behind her back and leaned back against the headboard. Tricia looked up, with a sheepish grin on her face. They joked and shared girl-talk until close to midnight.  
  
"Hey, I couldn't bring you any champagne, but do you want to see the fireworks anyway?"  
  
"Sure Auntie Belle."  
  
Tricia climbed out of bed and pulled on a heavy dressing gown. Mira got up and wrapped the top blanket from the bed around her body like a cloak. Tricia finished pulling on a pair of fuzzy slippers and unlocked the French doors, which led to her little balcony overlooking the back of the house. The sky was starting to cloud over, but it was not raining or snowing yet. Mira wrapped Tricia up with her in the blanket and heard the guests counting down to midnight down in the sitting parlor. The sky over London erupted in spontaneous flashes of colored light. Both muggle and wizarding fireworks were being shot into the sky. The heavy cloud cover muted the spectacle, which was exciting nonetheless. The final flashes of color over, Mira helped Tricia shut and lock the balcony doors and put the blanket back on the bed.  
  
Before tucking Tricia back in, Mira told her to be good at Beauxbatons, and maybe she would come to France for a visit towards the end of spring. Madame Maxime was an acquaintance of grandmother Eloise, and Mira was sure she could pull some strings and let Tricia spend the day with her auntie and grandmother during one of her free days in Paris.  
  
Quietly, Mira kissed the girl goodnight and goodbye and crept out the door and into the neighboring guest room. She took a magazine and sat on the bed and started to read. In less than a half an hour, Pru knocked on the door asking if Mira was inside.  
  
"There you are, Miss. Your sister couldn't find you, and as that dear old Mr. Fletcher was leaving, he said that you had felt ill and went upstairs. She sent me to check on you and let you know that the party was winding up, and the guests have started to leave. But you could stay on overnight if you needed."  
  
"Oh no, I'm better now. I just had too much drink and rich food for one evening and felt a little queasy, that's all. I best be going. I know Susan and Albert are going to need their rest."  
  
She followed the housekeeper down the stairs and explained to her cousin what had happened. The feeling sick story, of course. She feared that even if she told Susan what really happened, Susan would find a reason to be cross with her. Susan had Albert send for the portcarriage, and Prudencia fetched Mira's cloak for her. She bid her farewells, and arrived back home at the tailor shop at twelve forty in the morning. Very little time to prepare for her rendezvous with the professor. 


	56. Hell Hath No Fury Like a Woman Scorned

Author's Notes: Okay y'all. I know the chapters are being read. And I know that not everybody who reads them must be too horrified to type a review. (Hint-hint.)  
  
So, this chapter plunges headlong back into the storyline. Icky, squicky Malfoy badness. With a little surprise at the end. Violence and noncon sexual advances.  
  
Disclaimers: If you recognize it from the books and movies, it does not belong to me.  
  
Chapter 56: Hell Hath no Fury Like a Woman Scorned  
  
At the Malfoy family's country estate, only the large clock in the main hall marked the passage from one year to the next. Narcissa had taken to her chambers after returning from her mission, and as of yet had not emerged. The unlicensed healer who served the Malfoy family would arrive to examine her and confirm the pregnancy on Sunday. Narcissa begged off all of her New Year's social invitations with the excuse of falling ill from the cold damp weather. In truth, Lucius banished her to her chambers and ordered her to take to her bed before the healer could come, in case there was a complication.  
  
Lucius spent the last hours of the old year in his study, seated before the fireplace, drinking from a large goblet of fine brandy. As the clock in the hallway chimed eleven o' clock, he rang for his valet to refill his glass and leave the decanter behind on the side table. At midnight, he rose unsteadily to his feet and made his way slowly to his bedchamber. He locked the door behind him and called for the groundskeeper. The brawny older man was carrying a parcel in his hands when Lucius let him in the door.  
  
"Here are the things you sent me to buy Master Lucius. Everything on the list."  
  
Lucius pointed to a chair in the corner, indicating where he wanted the servant to leave the package.  
  
"Very good Birch; that will be all. And Birch. Please inform the others that Lady Malfoy is not to be disturbed this evening. If she awakens and asks for me, you may tell her that I retired to my chambers early and am not to be disturbed. Remember, you are to be waiting for me with the carriage at the servants' entrance at exactly a quarter of one."  
  
The man nodded in understanding and showed himself out the door.  
  
Lucius locked the door and unwrapped the package. It contained a suit of clothes from a secondhand shop in Diagon Alley. He touched the utilitarian black coat with a look of contempt on his face. The clothes spread out on his bed; he removed a silver key from his waistcoat pocket and performed a revealing spell on one of the ornately carved wall panels. It slid away to give access to a small door with a small silver lined keyhole. Lucius inserted the key and performed an unlocking charm. Several locking mechanisms clicked and spun behind the mahogany door as the key was taken into the keyhole. The door slowly opened, revealing a hidden vault with several scrolls and small chests stacked inside. Lucius removed an ornate silver covered chest and reversed the unlocking charm. The door closed and his key was slowly ejected from the slot. One more wave of the wand, and the panel slid back into place, concealing the vault completely.  
  
He carried the box to the bed, and opened it. Inside, nestled in a padded green velvet nest, sat a tiny silver pillbox, a glass goblet, two small silver charms, a pair of quills, and a large vial of the polyjuice potion. He closed the box, and went into his bathroom to freshen up before dressing for the evening's entertainment. Sobered up somewhat from a splash of cold water on his face, and all traces of his usual sweet smelling hair tonic and cologne washed away, he started to change into the clothes on the bed.  
  
The clothes were larger and longer than Lucius' usual fit. He had been a man of slightly more than average height with the physique of a leisured athlete in his prime. The injuries he sustained in battle and the stress of living underground had wasted him to a slightly stooped gauntness. He cursed in exasperation over the shoes. They were larger than his custom made boots, and he felt clumsy in them. After fumbling with the multitude of buttons on the outdated coat, he removed the larger of the two silver charms from the box and tied it around his neck. He tucked it under the drooping frill of the shirt collar, and wrapped a coarse wooly black scarf around his neck to further conceal the charm. He ran his hands through his thinning platinum hair, once his crown and glory, to untangle it from the scarf.  
  
He finished the disguise by removing his refurbished wand from the special cane, which held it, and tucked it in his coat pocket. In the pockets of a simple black wool cloak, he stashed the potion vial, goblet, and silver box of hairs. Not wanting to risk being seen in his home, he would drink the potion and undergo the transformation in his carriage. The extra level of paranoia had come when he caught Cassie, the housemaid, rummaging through the cabinet in his study early the previous morning. She claimed that she was polishing the cabinet and the door just came open, and she was shutting it when Lucius' valet walked in on her. Fearing that Narcissa sent her to destroy the remaining potion, Lucius punished her brutally and hid the chest containing the remaining potion and associated items away in his secret vault. He had promised Narcissa that he would not use the polyjuice potion on himself, but his own personal revenge and motives for it were none of her concern.  
  
At a quarter of one, Lucius left his bedchamber, locking and casting security wards on the doorway. He made his way clumsily down the hall, encumbered by the oversized shoes and lack of walking stick to steady himself with. He reached the servants' entrance, raised the hood of the cloak and pulled a pair of common black knitted gloves from his pocket and onto his spidery hands. Birch, the groundskeeper, helped his master into the carriage and closed the door. He tightened his heavy foul weather cloak around his chest and climbed up onto the driver's platform of the carriage. With a wave of his wand and a short incantation, it disappeared into the frigid winter night with a crack.  
  
Narcissa Malfoy peered through the lace curtains on the window in the guest suite at the back of the house. She watched with icy hatred in her eyes as the cloaked figure exited the house and entered the carriage. As it disapparated into the night, she started to laugh. A high-pitched, nervous laugh. She returned to her bedchamber, climbed back into bed and lay in the darkness with a self-satisfied smirk on her face.  
  
Mira hurried to straighten up her apartment a little. She didn't remember leaving it in such a bit of disarray, but she hadn't been home much over the past two days either. She was happy to find the pair of slippers she thought she had lost. In the bottom of the wardrobe of all places. She wondered what she was thinking when she put them there, because her slippers always stayed in the little basket at the side of her bed. Professor Snape would be arriving very shortly, so she dropped the anti- apparition wards and finished straightening up.  
  
Lucius Malfoy's portcarriage appeared in the alley near the end of the street where the tailor shop was located. He took a deep breath and unpacked the various items from his pockets. He added half of the black hairs to half of the remaining polyjuice potion, and drank the vile substance down. The transformation was as painful and disorienting as it had ever been. Lucius gripped the seat tightly until the waves of nausea passed, and hunched over his knees as his body began to change. His breathing slowed to normal, and he realized that breathing came much easier to him, and that nagging pain in his right side when he inhaled too deeply was gone. He sat up and felt a flexible healthy spine straighten against the back of the carriage seat. He looked down at his hands. Gone were the gaunt and slightly gnarled hands, and in their place were a pair of strong graceful hands. He turned his head and felt a curtain of thick shorter hair brushing against his cheek. He spied one of Narcissa's vanity mirrors on the seat opposite his and snatched it up. In the dim lamplight of the carriage cabin, he examined the face he now wore. A sneer which he had seen so many times on his rival's face played across his mouth, nearly startling him into dropping the mirror. But his attention was caught by something that was not quite right.  
  
"Shit!" Exclaimed Lucius, as he threw the mirror back down on the opposite seat. He ran his sweating palms over the tops of his thighs and retrieved the mirror. Upon closer examination, the flaw was still there, clearly visible. Instead of glittering obsidian black eyes, a pair of slightly cloudy irises stared back at him. Was it really that noticeable? He decided that if she noticed, which chances are she wouldn't, he would simply explain it away as a symptom of some exotic magical malady, being of muggle culture, she would never know the true cause.  
  
He pulled the hood up to conceal his face, and stepped out of the carriage. He motioned to Birch to sit in the cabin and wait for him.  
  
"One hour" croaked Malfoy in a hoarse approximation of the Potion Master's voice. "If there's trouble, you know what to do."  
  
The man merely nodded and climbed into the cabin to get out of the cold. The wind had picked up and it was starting to sleet. Malfoy performed the apparition and was instantly transported to the sitting room in Mira's apartment.  
  
A soft popping noise in the sitting room caught Mira's attention. She turned and headed towards the bedroom door.  
  
"Oh, you're a bit early, I didn't expect you before one. I was just straightening up a little. Here, let me light the lamps, it's a bit dark in here."  
  
Malfoy reached out and grabbed her arm as she walked past.  
  
"No, don't. The firelight is soothing."  
  
"Sure.what's wrong with your voice Severus? You sound like hell."  
  
"What? Oh, my voice. It's nothing. I might be coming down with a bit of a cold, that's all."  
  
"Yeah, I bet having to go outside on your patrols of the school grounds in this weather did it. You want a cup of warm tea?"  
  
"No, I'm fine."  
  
"Well then, why don't you just sit and warm yourself by the fire, while I change out of this medieval torture device of a robe."  
  
Mira kissed him on the cheek and went back to her bedroom to get out of the tight velvet robe and corset underneath. Malfoy warily laid the cloak across the sofa, removed the knitted scarf and gloves, and looked around the small room. It looked larger through the far seeing crystal. He had no idea just how cramped of a living space people of lower social standing actually lived in. The whole apartment would have fit in his bedchamber.  
  
As Mira unzipped the back of the robe, she noticed a peculiar clinking noise, like glass on glass. The weather seemed to have taken a turn for the worse. The sleet must have turned to small hailstones, which were bouncing off of her window. Lucius quietly approached the bedroom, and peered through the crack in the door. He watched her ease her shoulders out of the formal robe, wondering why a shopkeeper was wearing such a garment. She had been at some kind of a New Year's Eve party he remembered. Mira pushed the robe down over her hips and stepped out of it. She laid the robe across her bed and propped her foot up on the footboard of the bed to untie one of her boots. She didn't hear Lucius quietly ease the door open and slip into the room.  
  
He noiselessly crept up behind her. When Mira finished untying her other boot and tossed them into the floor of the open wardrobe, Lucius grabbed her and pulled her back against him. Startled, Mira jumped and let out a gasp.  
  
"Jesus Christ! What are you trying to do? Give me a heart attack?"  
  
"Well, you left the door open just enough for me to see you undressing. What effect did you expect it to have on me?"  
  
Lucius held her tightly with one arm, and cupped the other hand around her chin and upper throat. He pulled her head back at an awkward angle and inhaled the fragrance of her hair. He let go and removed the hairpins, which were holding her curls up in a formal knot on the back of her head. He twisted her around to face him; and kissed her roughly on the lips, nearly tearing the flesh with his teeth. Mira made a shocked little noise and twisted her head away. Lucius grabbed her by the hair and pulled her face back to his, and kissed her again, biting her bottom lip hard enough to break the skin slightly.  
  
Disturbed by the taste of blood, Mira twisted and squirmed out of his grasp and backed up against the footboard of the bed. Rough lovemaking was no big shock to her, but the professor had never been so rough with her as to break the skin before. Not even on the night when she accidentally sedated herself in the bath and he took her hard and fast. She backed around the footboard and he positioned himself between her and the door.  
  
"Severus, that hurt! What's gotten into you?"  
  
He stepped forward and dabbed the blood off of her lip with the cuff of his coat.  
  
"My apologies, I'm afraid I got carried away with desire. I didn't realize I was being too rough."  
  
Mira sat on the edge of the bed and kept a wary eye on her lover as she loosened the lacings of her corset. Lucius stood motionless in the shadow of the doorway, enthralled. No polyjuice replica could compare to the real thing. He wished he had enough potion and hair samples to spend an entire night in Snape's body. He would have her in every way imaginable. But, his ruse allowed him not even an hour with her. He had the extra dose of potion in his pocket, but using it would require blowing his ruse, as she believed him to be merely popping in for a brief rendezvous. The corset laces loosened, Mira stood up and pulled the rigid garment off over her head. As her heavy breasts fell free from under the corset, Lucius felt a tingling in the pit of his stomach and a familiar but slightly different sensation just slightly farther down. Devouring her with his eyes, he chuckled over a comment he remembered from his schoolboy days: "I wouldn't fuck her with my worst enemy's cock", his housemates used to say of a particularly undesirable girl.  
  
"My worst enemy's cock indeed" he sneered under his breath, as he lunged at her. Lucius caught Mira just under the arms and shoved her back onto the bed, knocking the breath out of her. As she struggled to untangle her arms from the corset and catch her breath, he dove onto her with groping hands and hungry mouth. His hand found it's way under the heavy crinoline and between her legs as she finally worked herself free from the corset. With a yelp of pain from his rough advances, Mira twisted free and scooted herself back against the headboard.  
  
"What the hell is your problem?"  
  
Lucius crawled onto the bed, and advanced towards her on hands and knees like a predator approaching a cornered prey.  
  
"Oh come now darling, let's not play games. We both know you like a bit of the rough and tumble every now and then, hmmm?"  
  
"That's not rough and tumble, you were hurting me. I think you should leave. I've had enough of aggressive men for one night. Send me an owl when you've gotten over whatever put you into this mood."  
  
He reached forward and took her chin in his hand.  
  
"But I've only just gotten here darling, and it's so cold and icy outside. You wouldn't turn me away into the cold completely unsatisfied, now would you?"  
  
Lucius let go of her chin and let his hand drop to her chest where he gave her breast a rough squeeze. Mira kicked his arm away and scrambled off the bed, into the corner between her dressing table and the window.  
  
"Severus, you're out of control. You need to turn around, get your cloak, and leave. Before you do something that you're going to deeply regret."  
  
Lucius climbed off the bed and stood over her, slowly undoing the long row of buttons on the front of his coat. Mira tucked her knees up against herself, and looked around, trying to find something she could use as a weapon. The handbag with her wand in it was hanging on the door of the wardrobe, out of reach. She heard the sound of the hailstones on the window grow louder and looked up at her dressing table for something to defend herself with. Movement in a crystal jewel box caught her eye. It took her a moment to realize what she was hearing and seeing. There were no hailstones hitting the window, she was hearing the miniature sneakascope bouncing around inside the little glass box she kept it in. She gasped, realizing that not only was the Professor out of control, he intended to do her serious harm.  
  
As Lucius was fumbling with the buttons on the black coat, Mira panicked and tried to make a dash for her wand. He snatched her back by her wrist and twisted it painfully as he pulled her close. The light from the streetlamp outside on the lane shone in his face. Mira noticed that his eyes looked strange. As if they were faded or cloudy.  
  
"What's wrong with your eyes? They look strange."  
  
"It's the cold I caught, nothing more."  
  
"No, colds don't cause a person's eyes to change like that. What's wrong with you?"  
  
"I said nothing. Now shut up and be a little more cooperative. The more you resist, the more I shall have to use force with you. It's your choice as to how painful this becomes."  
  
He pressed her against the wall and buried his face in her neck, while unfastening the top buttons of his coat. She noticed that he smelled strange too. He smelled sweet, like freshly mown hay. There was absolutely no trace of the sharp musty odor of the potions lab anywhere on his hair, skin, or clothes. A very uneasy feeling worked its way into Mira's consciousness. What if this wasn't really the professor? Was such a disguise even possible? She knew that in the wizarding world, very few things were impossible, and this man could very well be an imposter. But who? And more disturbing, why?  
  
Mira knew that she was in great danger, possibly in mortal danger. She had to try to get to her wand. It was her only chance. The imposter cursed under his breath over the last coat button, and Mira used the distraction to her advantage and pushed him away, snatching at the handbag. Lucius lunged at her and she clawed at his face, drawing blood while ripping the cord with the silver voice charm off of his neck. He grabbed her by the arm and threw her back against the wall.  
  
"Fucking muggle loving bitch! All you had to do was play along. Just let me have what I came for, and it wouldn't have come to this."  
  
Mira looked down at the strange silver charm in her hand, trying to place where she had heard that voice before.  
  
"Who are you? Why are you here?"  
  
"Oh come now, Mira. You know full well why I'm here. As to who I am? That doesn't concern you at the moment. You can either give me what I came for, and live to see your bastard of a lover again; or you continue to resist and leave me no choice but to take it by force. In which case you will most assuredly not live to see the genuine article ever again."  
  
He stepped forward to her, and removed his wand from his pocket. He reached out with it, and prodded the diamond brooch she had around her neck, turning it over to see the backside. With a sneer, he flipped it back over.  
  
"I thought I recognized that. How pathetic that he would give something so fine to a piece of common trash like you. It insults the memory of those fine women to have the name of a muggle loving whore engraved next to theirs."  
  
"You're not fit to wear it!" Lucius hissed as he snatched the brooch off of her neck. The latching mechanism must have come undone in their struggles, because the pin pierced his hand deeply and made him cry out in rage. Mira tried again to snatch for the handbag but he slung her around and onto the bed, wand pointed directly at her chest. He tossed the brooch onto the ground and wiped the blood off of his hand onto his trousers.  
  
"I am quite through with your histrionics, Mira!"  
  
Mira shielded her face with her hands as the jet of red light shot out of his wand and impacted with her body. The stunning spell caused her to instantly fall unconscious. Lucius pocketed the wand and removed the coat, and draped it across the footboard of the bed. He sat next to Mira and stroked her cheek in a gesture, which would have been mistaken for a lover's tender caress under different circumstances. Checking the watch he carried in his trouser pocket, he saw that he had not much more than a quarter of an hour left before he would transform back to his normal appearance. But with Mira unconscious, he could either use the last dose of polyjuice potion, or dispense with the ruse altogether and continue on as himself however long he wanted.  
  
He unhooked the waistband of the heavy crinoline and pulled it down over her hips and tossed it into the corner. Intrigued by the exoticness of her muggle style underpants and stockings, he lingered over them a bit longer than necessary. Most high born witches still wore old fashioned bloomers under their robes, and even many of the witch whores in Knockturn Alley wore them to cater to their old fashioned clients' tastes.  
  
Eager to enjoy her in a body undamaged by injury; he quickly climbed onto the bed with her, parted her legs, and undid his trousers. But nothing was happening. As much as he wanted to take her, as she lay unconscious, he was not getting physically aroused. He couldn't understand why he wasn't able to perform. Impotence was not supposed to be a side effect of the polyjuice potion. He had never experienced it before, the other times he had taken it for pleasure. Frustrated, he buttoned the trousers and began to pace across the room, nervously running his fingers through his hair.  
  
Lucius decided that there must have been a flaw with the potion. After all, his eyes had failed to fully transform. The flaw must be preventing him from achieving arousal. He would wait out the transformation back to his own body and settle for having her that way. He felt the first stages of regression, and sat down on the bed while the uncomfortable sinking feeling passed. Back in his normal body, he tried to consummate the act again, without luck.  
  
He tried every virility charm and lust spell he could think of, but nothing had any effect whatsoever. He finally decided that since he had another dose of the potion and enough hair to transform once again, he could simply wipe her memory and come back another time, after he found out what was wrong with the potion. Distracted and unfocused from the disturbing turn of events, he performed a piss-poor example of the Obliviate curse and gathered his things to leave. After dressing, he limped from the bedroom, looking back over his shoulder with a look of contempt on his face.  
  
Lucius disapparated back to the carriage, where he found his groundskeeper and driver asleep in the cabin, snoring. He blasted the man awake with a hex, and hurled him out of the cabin of the carriage with a curse. Rubbing his elbow, the man struggled to his feet, and bowed in apology to his master. Lucius climbed clumsily into the cabin and slammed the door behind him. Within a matter of seconds, the carriage was back at the servants' entrance of the Malfoy's large house. Lucius flung the door open, and blasted the back door of the house open with his wand. He limped unsteadily through the house, swearing with rage, and to his bedchambers where he slammed the door forcefully behind him.  
  
In her room, Narcissa heard the slamming and screaming and tucked her blanket to her chin, snickering like a naughty schoolgirl. She had sent her maid to sabotage the polyjuice potion that morning, as she had no doubts that Lucius would use the potion for sexual conquest, despite his promise not to do so. Cassie paid dearly for the scheme, but Narcissa had already compensated her dearly with a large purse of gold galleons and a couple of her old silk robes. 


	57. Trouble is Brewing

Author's Notes: Things come to a head in this chapter. It becomes quite obvious that something is very wrong in the wizarding world. Sirius Black makes an appearance, as do the kids.  
  
Disclaimers: If you recognize it from the books or movies, it doesn't belong to me.  
  
Chapter 57: Trouble is Brewing  
  
Harry Potter spent his New Year's Eve with the Weasley family. Which worked out quite well all around; Harry's godfather and guardian, Sirius Black, was in the mood to cut loose and celebrate the turning of the year at the pub. Who had the more raucous good time was up to debate, as the Weasley twins orchestrated a midnight fireworks display the likes of which had never been seen in that part of the countryside. Molly Weasley was chasing around the garden, threatening the boys with all manner of punishment, while Arthur had to work quickly in order to reinforce the muggle repelling wards in place around the Burrow and surrounding land in case any curious and amazed villagers should try and find out where the elaborate light show came from.  
  
With the weather turning nasty, Molly finally managed to bring order to her household and get all of the boys back into the house. Arthur entered shortly after, shivering from the cold and worn out from having to work so much quick magic to contain the pandemonium. After Molly ranted for nearly a quarter hour at the twins over the spectacle they had caused, Arthur took them aside and quietly congratulated them on putting on such a good show. Harry and Ron kept their noses down during Molly's ranting and sneaked up the stairs to Ron's room undetected. It was just the boys that evening. Ginny had been invited to a girls' party being held by one of her friends from school, and would be sleeping over. Hermione was spending the holiday at home, at her mother's request. Ginny would come home early the next day, and that evening, Sirius and Hermione would come to join Harry and the Weasley family for dinner.  
  
After the commotion had fully quieted down, and the elder Weasleys retired to bed, the twins apparated into Ron's room. Fred performed a locking and soundproofing charm on the door, while George pulled a small flask of fire- whiskey out of his pocket. The boys stayed up 'till the wee hours passing around the otherwise forbidden drink, and telling funny stories from school. They finally wound down and fell asleep just before the first light of day.  
  
As the night came to an end, the head of household professors gathered in the teachers' lounge at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, to commiserate with each other after a long night of patrolling the school grounds and corridors. Despite the fact that there were so few students staying on over the holidays, the professors had their hands quite full controlling pranking and mischief making.  
  
Professor Sprout sat on the sofa, rubbing her tired feet and whining for a headache potion. Professor McGonagall shot her an impatient look, and then sympathetically passed her the silver flask from which she had been drinking. Professor Snape dropped wearily into an armchair, reminding the two witches that his suggestion had been to put all the students to bed in a full body bind 'till morning. Sprout shot him a nasty look, declaring the idea to have been barbaric; but McGonagall confessed that in retrospect, the idea actually had some merit. Professor Flitwick was off assisting Filch, the caretaker, in cataloging and storing away all the fireworks, joke shop items, forbidden bottles of alcohol, and other contraband that was confiscated from the students during the night. After Headmaster Dumbledore arrived to wish them a Happy New Year, and to thank them for their efforts in maintaining order throughout the school, the professors dispersed to their respective chambers for a well-earned bit of rest.  
  
On his way to his chambers, Professor Snape stopped by the Slytherin dormitory to release Crabbe and Goyle from the full body bind he had placed them in just after midnight, when he caught them trying to enchant the stone gargoyles lining the dungeon corridors into waging an aerial battle. A thorough search of the common rooms turned up a bottle of wine, stashed between the cushions of a chair. With a smirk, he transfigured the wine into vinegar and tucked it back in its hiding place. After the boys were released and warned not to venture out of the dormitory until suppertime, Snape finally made it to his private chambers and was asleep by the time his head touched the pillow.  
  
With the other boys sleeping in, Harry Potter was the solitary witness to the glittering fairyland of ice, which could be seen from the upstairs window. He had a disturbing dream again. Except this time, the baby crying was not in a graveyard, but in a large spooky old house. In his dream, he wandered through dark labyrinthine hallways, trying to find the source of the crying. As he worked his way closer to the sound, the cries became louder and more high-pitched. He finally entered a room, painted all in black, with a large ornate iron crib in the corner. He didn't want to see what was in the crib, but in the dream he was drawn towards it with an irresistible pull. He approached the crib and saw a baby wrapped in tattered cloth, its face hidden from view. One tiny fist flailed against the wrappings, as the child cried on. To his horror, Harry watched his hand in the dream reach into the crib to uncover the baby's face. And as his worse fears were confirmed, it was the same serpentine distorted face, the one that he had seen under Quirrell's turban and also that night in the cemetery, after Cedric Diggory's death.  
  
It was settled. He would have to tell somebody about the dream, somebody who could help him figure out why he was dreaming such things. He decided to confide in Hermione later on that day. She was clever enough to know what to do, what kind of charm to cast or potion to take to prevent disturbing dreams.  
  
As the rest of the Burrow and the Hogwarts castle started to stir, Professor Snape woke, and quickly readied himself for the rest of the day. He checked his sitting room for any owl post. Finding none, he summoned a house-elf to check the owlery for any undelivered messages he might have received. Assuming that Mira had simply stayed up late and slept in late as well, he shrugged the lack of correspondence off and went to fetch his house charges to serve their detention. Scrubbing the dungeon corridor floor clean of all fireworks residue, by hand instead of magic, would be their punishment. The boys busy with the floors, he propped the door to the Potions classroom open so that he could work while keeping an eye on them.  
  
As the afternoon drew on, he checked again to see if he had received any owl post, and decided to send Mira an owl, to make sure she had indeed returned from her cousin's house safe and sound. With no reply by suppertime, he grew a little concerned about her and sent an owl to her cousin's house. When the professor returned from the dining hall, there was a scroll waiting for him on his fireside table. Not a reply from Mira, but from her cousin, Susan. Susan wrote that Mira had indeed been at the party, but left feeling a bit unwell from indulging in too much rich food and drink. She was probably at home nursing a hangover and bellyache and felt embarrassed to be seen in such a state. The professor decided to send another owl. In the morning when she woke up and felt better, Mira would find the scrolls and write to him, letting him know what had happened. Disappointed in not being able to see her, but satisfied with the explanation that she had just overdone it at the party, he pulled a book off of his bookshelf and spent the rest of the evening, reading in front of the fire.  
  
After supper at the Burrow, the teenagers gathered in the sitting room while the adults sat around the table sipping brandied tea. While Ron and the twins played with a set of trick gobstones, which the elder boys had been experimenting on, Harry was able to pull Hermione aside, and tell her about the dreams. As he expected, she was very concerned. But he did not expect her to demand that he tell Sirius that night after they got home.  
  
"Look Harry, either you tell him tonight, or I will owl him tomorrow. I mean it. I want an owl from you confirming that you told him by noontime tomorrow."  
  
"All right, all right! I'll tell him. But I still don't think this is as big of a deal as you seem to think it is. I mean, it can't be anything more than bad dreams, right?"  
  
"I don't know. But whatever it is, it's not normal, and it's disturbing your sleep."  
  
Harry sulked the rest of the evening, worrying about throwing all of the adults in his life into a stir over a couple of bad dreams. Sirius would scold him for not coming to him right away. He'd owl Dumbledore. Dumbledore would want to see Harry right away, and they would both blow it way out of proportion. They might even get McGonagall or Pomfrey involved. He was sick and tired of being at the center of excitement and just wanted to be left alone. That night, he started to tell Sirius, but decided it could wait until morning. No use in spoiling a holiday.  
  
At noon the next day, Harry had still not told Sirius about the dream. True to her word, an owl arrived from Hermione, demanding an answer. He put her off, replying that Sirius had gone into Hogsmeade before he even woke up and wouldn't be home until time to fix supper. He'd tell him as soon as he saw him. Not sure if Hermione would buy his excuse or not, he tied the note to the owl's leg and sent it back on its way.  
  
Growing concerned at not receiving any replies to the owls he sent Mira, Professor Snape sent off another one at noontime. He would finish up his work in the Potions laboratory, and if he had not received a reply during the afternoon, he would inform Dumbledore and go check on her in person after supper.  
  
After they finished their supper, Harry told Sirius about the two dreams. As he had suspected, Sirius was very angry with him for not saying anything sooner and immediately went to the fireplace to have a fire-talk consultation with Dumbledore. The headmaster was equally concerned and asked that Sirius bring Harry on through the floo fire right away. The pair arrived in Dumbledore's office, and Harry sat down to tell the whole story to the old wizard.  
  
After a messy afternoon working on a troublesome potion, Professor Snape went to his bedchamber to change clothes for supper. It would be rude to show up at the table wearing dirty robes, and the professor was very meticulous about his dress. He put on the tunic coat he had worn the last night he visited Mira. As he buttoned the sleeves, he noticed a slight bulge in one of the pockets. It was Mira's hair elastic. After he pulled it out of her hair, it must have somehow wound up in his pocket. Smiling wickedly at the memory of that night, he brought it up to his face to try and smell her fragrance.  
  
He felt a cold, tight feeling in his chest. Instead of her dark curly hair, there were silky blonde hairs tangled up in the elastic. Was she a natural blonde whose hair would return to its natural color and texture once removed from the head? He knew of no grooming potion with that effect, and the whole thing felt very much like dark wizardry. Something nagged at the back of his mind, but he couldn't see the connection. Suddenly it dawned on him and the implication of what may have happened hit him like a cold wave. Knowing that something was very wrong, he grabbed his cloak and ran through the corridors and up the stairs to the headmaster's office. Shouting out the password while still halfway down the hall, he burst into Dumbledore's office and nearly ran headlong into Sirius Black, who had been standing in front of the fire.  
  
"What the hell are you doing, charging into the headmaster's quarters like a crazed hippogriff?"  
  
"I don't have time for you Black, where's Dumbledore? This is urgent!"  
  
"Well, you'll just have to cool your heels and wait a minute; He's in his office with Harry, discussing an urgent matter of his own."  
  
Snape pushed past Sirius and continued towards the closed door of the headmaster's office. Black reached out and grabbed him by the arm. The professor wheeled around with his wand drawn and pointed it in Sirius' face.  
  
"Let go of my arm Black! Mira could be in danger at this very moment, and I do not have time to throw a few curses at you, as much of a pleasure as it would be!"  
  
At the commotion in his sitting room, Headmaster Dumbledore emerged from his office, with a quizzical look on his face.  
  
"Severus, is there something wrong?"  
  
Professor Snape shrugged off Sirius' hand, and turned to the older wizard.  
  
"Headmaster. I have to talk to you immediately. It concerns Mirabelle, and it's very urgent. She may be in danger."  
  
Dumbledore nodded to the professor, and motioned back into his office for Harry to come on out. Harry crossed the floor, a shocked expression on his face, over the commotion, which had taken place in front of the fireplace. Dumbledore ushered the professor into his office, and turned to Harry before closing the door.  
  
"I would like for the two of you to stay for a moment. Just in case I need to have another word with you."  
  
Dumbledore closed the door behind him and listened to Professor Snape's story about the owls to Mira going unanswered, and finding hair, which appeared not to be hers, tangled up in her hair elastic. He also explained how he had only just realized that the stolen potion ingredients were essential in brewing the illegal Polyjuice potion, which could be used to temporarily take on another's physical appearance. If somebody had indeed posed as Mira using the Polyjuice potion, she could be in grave danger.  
  
Dumbledore remembered his last brush with Polyjuice deception. The incident involving Alastor Moody a few years back. He agreed that the matter warranted immediate looking into. He got up from behind his desk and called Sirius back into the room and closed the door.  
  
"What did you bring him in here for?"  
  
"Because he's going with you to the tailor shop to find her. If there's dark magic involved, I don't want you going alone. This could be a trap."  
  
"No Albus. Not with him. I'd rather go alone."  
  
"I'm afraid you're not. You are going with Sirius, and that is the end of it. You are willing to accompany him, aren't you Sirius?"  
  
"Of course headmaster, anything you ask, anything for her."  
  
Sirius exaggerated the "you" and the "her" in his reply to make it quite clear exactly why he was going.  
  
With a snarl, Professor Snape rose from his chair and headed out the door.  
  
As Sirius rose from his chair, the headmaster placed a fatherly hand on his shoulder.  
  
"Sirius, I know that the two of you do not share any good will towards each other, but please make sure he doesn't do anything foolish."  
  
"Of course headmaster. I'll do what I can."  
  
Black turned and exited the office and told Harry that he would be back soon, and asked the boy for an object which he removed from his pocket. Sirius hurried out of the office and down the stairs and central corridor to try and catch up with the professor, who was already out the door and struggling through the icy wind towards the main gates of the school. Sirius watched him blast the gates open with his wand and disapparate as soon as his foot crossed over the magical barrier, which protected the school. 


	58. What a Tangled Web We Weave

Author's Notes: Not only does Snape have to face the fact that he and Mira have been involved in a horrible plot, the reasons which unknown; he has a revelation regarding his ineptitude at romance.  
  
Disclaimers: Nothing you recognize from the books or movies belongs to me.  
  
Chapter 58: What a Tangled Web We Weave  
  
In a sudden jerking motion, Professor Snape found himself stumbling back off of the sidewalk in front of the tailor shop. The security wards were in place; his apparition into the apartment was blocked. He was pounding on the door when Sirius Black apparated onto the sidewalk next to him.  
  
"You couldn't get in?"  
  
"If I could have gotten in, I would be in. The anti-apparition ward is in place. I've been able to release all the security wards I taught her, but she must have done something to the lock. Alohomora won't even budge it.  
  
Sirius reached into his pocket and pulled out what looked like a muggle Swiss Army knife and handed it to the professor.  
  
"Here, it's Harry's, it'll unlock any magical lock"  
  
Snape used the knife to pick the lock on the door. He flung it open and both wizards rushed through the door, immediately caught in what seemed like an invisible snare and yanked upside down by their feet. Sirius swore in frustration at the trap they found themselves caught in.  
  
"She had a bloody anti-gravity mist trap set! Don't tell me you taught her that trick too?"  
  
"Shut up Black, and no, I didn't."  
  
The wizards quickly defeated the booby trap and stood still, looking around the dark store; the only light was the faint glow coming from their wands. Professor Snape saw the owl scrolls in a pile under the owl perch in the corner. With a sinking feeling, he feared she might not be there, or they might be too late in getting to her. Both men tensed, their wands at the ready when they heard a noise upstairs.  
  
"Stay here Black."  
  
"Oh no, you're not going up there alone. We don't know who or what might be up there."  
  
"Spare me the heroics, Black. I need you to cover me while I climb the stairs."  
  
Warily, they walked through the store and into the back room. Professor Snape motioned for Sirius to stay back as he slowly approached the staircase, wand at the ready.  
  
"Mira! Are you up there?"  
  
The only reply was a noise, which sounded like a person moving around the rooms upstairs.  
  
"Mira; if you're there, I need to speak with you."  
  
"Go away!"  
  
"Mira, love. It's me. I'm coming up to find out what's happened."  
  
The moment his foot touched the first step of the staircase, a ceramic vase came sailing down the stairwell and shattered against the wall behind him. Both wizards jumped back out of the way. Professor Snape called back up the staircase.  
  
"Mira, listen to me. I don't know what's happened to you, but you're safe now. Do you understand? We've come to help you"  
  
"Who's with you?"  
  
"Sirius, Sirius Black."  
  
"Stand in front of the staircase, so I can see you. Both of you."  
  
Sirius looked towards Professor Snape with an unsure look on his face. The professor nodded and gestured towards the stairs. They stood with their wands at their sides, peering into the darkness, but could only detect a shadow of movement at the top of the stairs.  
  
"Okay, you can come up, but only one of you."  
  
Professor Snape motioned for Sirius to stand off to the side and cover him while he climbed the stairs. As he reached the top, he noticed that Mira's apartment was very dark. He stepped into the sitting room, trying to see in the dim light radiating from the tip of his wand.  
  
"Stop right there and drop your wand."  
  
"Mira, where are you?"  
  
"Drop your wand. Or do you think that the anti-gravity mist is the only thing I have set to protect myself?"  
  
Snape tried to determine where the voice was coming from, but she seemed to have enchanted her voice to come from all directions at once.  
  
"Mira, it's me. Where are you? Let me see that you're okay."  
  
"You heard me, drop the fucking wand!"  
  
"How do I know it's really you?"  
  
"Well, how do I know it's really you either? Drop your wand or leave."  
  
Snape stood motionless, debating what to do. Drop the wand and trust that it was really Mira, start firing random disarming curses in all directions and hope to hit something, or retreat and come back upstairs with Black as backup.  
  
Logic and common sense clouded by emotion, he reached out and set his wand down on the back of the sofa.  
  
"Good, now walk towards my voice."  
  
Mira's voice was now focused, coming from the direction of the bedroom door. Snape started to walk towards her voice, hoping he had not set himself up for an ambush.  
  
"That's it, keep walking."  
  
He skirted around the end of the sofa in the sitting room, and stepped towards the bedroom door.  
  
"A few more steps."  
  
"Stop!"  
  
Mira said an incantation to light the lamps in the bedroom, and the professor found himself standing in front of her. Before he could turn around, she stuck her wand in the small of his back.  
  
"Don't move a muscle or I swear to God I will curse you."  
  
"Mira, calm down. What's happened?"  
  
"Shut up and step into the light."  
  
Professor Snape stepped forward into Mira's bedroom, and immediately noticed that some kind of a struggle had taken place, the room was in disarray and there was a spattering of blood on one of the walls.  
  
"Mira, what happened? Did somebody hurt you?"  
  
"Turn around and show me your eyes."  
  
"What? My eyes?"  
  
"You heard me, turn around into the light and show me your eyes!"  
  
The professor slowly turned around and inhaled sharply when he saw the state Mira was in. Her hair was disheveled and wild, and she had a bruised and bloody bottom lip. Her arms were bruised in what looked like the pattern of handprints. He reached out towards her but she jumped back and pointed the wand at his chest.  
  
"Stop! I haven't seen your eyes yet. Put your hands behind your back."  
  
He clasped his hands behind his back and looked at her in puzzlement as she stepped very close and stared intently at his eyes, and then his whole face.  
  
"Who did this to you?"  
  
"You."  
  
"Mira, what are you talking about? I wouldn't harm a hair on your head."  
  
"All I know is that you arranged to meet me here on New Year's Eve, but something wasn't right about you. And then you just lost it and went off on me."  
  
"Mira, I can assure you that I did not come here on New Year's Eve. Headmaster Dumbledore and all the heads of house at Hogwarts can vouch for my whereabouts."  
  
"Well, if it wasn't you, who the hell was it. Because it certainly looked like you."  
  
"Looked like me Mira? Are you saying that somebody who looked like me but who was not me, arranged to meet you here and did something to you?"  
  
"Yes. I guess. I don't know! All I know is that you came to visit me but your eyes looked strange, your voice sounded strange, and you smelled different. I pulled some of your hair out, but later on I noticed it had changed color, it turned white. At first I thought it was somebody pretending to be you. But that's not possible. Is it?"  
  
"Mira, love. Where were you the night after your trip to London with the girls?"  
  
"I stayed on at Susan's house, to spend a little more time with Tricia. Why?"  
  
"And you didn't come home that night at all?"  
  
"No, why?"  
  
"Mira, I don't know how to tell you this, but yes, it is possible for somebody to disguise themselves as another that convincingly. I think somebody used magic to pretend to be me in order to deceive you. Who or why, I'm not entirely sure."  
  
Mira sat down on the edge of her bed, and dropped her wand to the floor. She leaned forward and clasped her arms around her knees. The professor looked around her bedroom, and noticed the brooch he had given her, with the blood on the pin.  
  
"Is this your blood, Mira?"  
  
"No, his"  
  
Snape pocketed the brooch and kept looking around the room. He found the scroll with the Hogwarts seal on her dressing table and unrolled it. He recognized the seal and parchment, but realized the handwriting was a poor attempt at copying his, and he certainly had not written the letter. He pocketed that as well and went to Mira's side. He knelt down at her side, and took her hand.  
  
"I need you to come back with me to Hogwarts. I want Madame Pomfrey to look at your injuries, and I need to talk to you some more about what happened. But not here, not like this. Alright?"  
  
She shook her head, and he gathered up a few of her things in her overnight bag. After helping her into a clean robe and wrapping her winter cloak around her shoulders, he handed her back her wand, and walked her into the sitting room. He sat her down on the sofa and asked if Sirius could come up for a minute. She shook her head, and Snape retrieved his wand and went to fetch the other wizard. Sirius helped him go over her apartment once again, trying to find any more clues as to what happened. Black found a button, which had been ripped off of a men's tunic coat. Snape found a clump of silvery hair with a little blood at the roots as well as the voice charm Mira had dislodged in her struggles.  
  
On their way out the door, he turned to extinguish the lamp, and the sight of something glittering in the folds of the curtain caught his attention. He retrieved it and recognized it as a far seeing orb. Pocketing the bauble, he extinguished the lamp and helped Mira down the stairs, and to the floo fireplace. Snape started the fire and activated the floo connection. He spoke with Dumbledore via fire talking, and sent Sirius on through to the Headmaster's office with Mira's overnight bag. He secured the store, and put out a large bowl of water and a tray of owl pellets for Swiftfeather, then secured the owl window. The owl flapped his wings in indignation over being confined indoors. Mira went to his perch and stroked the feathers on his wing.  
  
"Sorry Swiftfeather, but we can't take any chances until we find out what happened and who's behind it all."  
  
The bird ruffled his feathers and settled onto his perch. The professor took Mira gently by the arm, mindful of her bruises, and walked her to the fireplace. He grabbed a large handful of floo powder from the urn on the ground next to the hearth, and wrapped his arms tightly around her shoulders. With a flash of green fire, they disappeared from the tailor shop and stepped off the hearth of the fireplace in Dumbledore's office.  
  
Harry and Sirius were gone, but the headmaster was waiting for them by the fireplace.  
  
"I hope you don't mind, I sent them home. Harry has been under some strain lately, and I felt that the less he was involved in this, the better. Now, come sit by the fire for a minute while I make some arrangements."  
  
Professor Snape approached the old wizard and asked if he could take Mira directly to the chambers she had stayed in during her holiday visit at the school. Madame Pomfrey could attend to her there, in a setting she felt safe and comfortable in. He also asked the headmaster to give him some time alone with her before debriefing him on what was seen and found at the tailor shop. Consent given, Professor Snape walked Mira down to the guest chamber and inserted the key, which he had found on her key ring with the rest of her keys. The door opened to reveal the familiar golden room, which she had spent the Christmas holiday in. A house-elf had already brought her overnight bag down and set it on the floor next to the wardrobe. The professor requested a pot of tea be sent over. The tea service materialized on the small table against the sitting room wall. He sat with Mira before the fire, and listened to her hazy account of what happened, until Madame Pomfrey arrived to examine Mira's injuries.  
  
After a quiet examination in the bedchamber, the healer witch detailed Mira's injuries to the professor. She had been roughed up quite harshly, but suffered no serious harm. She also calmed his fears and said that whoever roughed her up had taken no inappropriate liberties with her while she was unconscious. She detailed the fact that Mira had been subjected to a poor attempt at the Obliviate curse, and it had not fully taken, hence her dream-like memories of the attack. Mira's arms would be sore for a few days, but the healing salve should take care of her bruises in a couple of days. Professor Snape thanked the woman and showed her to the door.  
  
He placed the jar of healing salve inside Mira's bag and opened the secret passageway to his private chambers. Propriety be damned, he did not want to leave her alone that night, not even a few short steps away. She could spend the night in his private chambers, and if anybody felt it inappropriate, they could answer to his wand. He took her through to his chambers, sealed the passageway to the guest suite, and had her sit in the chair in the corner of his bedroom while he drew her a warm bath.  
  
While the large stone bathtub was filling, he went into his laboratory and gathered up a bowl full of various dried flowers and herbs. He tied them up in a piece of cloth and dropped the bundle into the steaming water. After the water was infused with the healing botanicals, he helped her out of her robe, and into the bath. While she soaked in the warm soothing water, he noticed the full extent of her bruises and the sight made him seethe with anger.  
  
The Professor had a good idea of who was behind the attack, but wanted to discuss it with Dumbledore before drawing any more conclusions. He would know for certain once the far seeing crystal could be examined more closely. After allowing her a good long soak in the bath, he brought her a towel and the overnight bag he had packed for her. Her healing salve applied and a mild sedative potion administered, Snape settled her down in his large bed and sat at the edge until she fell asleep. He then went into his sitting room and contacted the headmaster via the fireplace. Dumbledore arrived at the Potions wing within minutes, for a debriefing.  
  
Professor Snape showed the headmaster the items taken from Mira's apartment. The bloody brooch, the button, the forged scroll, the lock of hair, the voice charm, and the far seeing orb, as well as the hair elastic he had found in his own pocket.  
  
The two wizards agreed. It had to have been the Malfoys. The platinum blonde hairs, the motivation for such a heinous deception, and the knowledge and ability to brew the polyjuice potion all led to the same conclusion. Dumbledore suggested that professor Snape get Flitwick's help in accessing the images captured by the far seeing orb. But Snape reminded the old man that the images captured by the orb weren't to be shown indiscriminately, and he did not want the orb leaving his possession. He wasn't quite sure he was going to tell Mira about it or about his own deception. He decided it would serve no real purpose to inform her, at least not now.  
  
Both men agreed that it would be best for Mira to remain at Hogwarts until the matter was resolved. If Lucius Malfoy really was back on the scene, and being assisted by his wife; Mira would be safest at the castle. In the morning, Dumbledore would contact her family and arrange for some more of her things to be brought to the castle and for the village girl who helped at the shop to take over for a while.  
  
A short time after he left the professor, Dumbledore had a far sight viewing crystal delivered to the potions laboratory via house-elf. Professor Snape carried the device into his sitting room and set about trying to bring the viewing crystal and seeing orb into synch. If he could figure out the correct alignment of energies, they could be united as a set and he would be able to see what, if anything, was captured by the device in Mira's apartment.  
  
That night, he took an alertness potion and stayed up all night, working on the crystal, and keeping an eye on Mira as she slept. The next day, Dumbledore sent word to Mira's cousin telling her to arrange for the shop girl to watch the store, as Mira would be staying at the castle for a while. He also requested that some of her clothes and other necessities be packed and put on one of the school carriages at the train station. After the carriage arrived, house-elves saw to unpacking her things and fixing up the guest chambers for an extended stay.  
  
Mira bided her time helping Professor Sprout in the greenhouses, while Professor Snape worked tirelessly on the far seeing crystal. He worked on it while she was away with Professor Sprout, and with the continued use of alertness potions, while she slept as well. On the fourth day, he cracked the code and brought the crystal and orb into alignment with each other. He watched the slightly fish-eyed view of Mira's apartment. Whoever had placed it there was stalking her with voyeuristic obsession. Watching her sleep, watching her bathe, watching her dress and undress. Her most vulnerable and intimate moments. As uncomfortable as watching his lover's private activities play out through the crystal made him feel, he was not prepared for the last scenario recorded by the device.  
  
He watched with growing uneasiness as Narcissa Malfoy entered the room and began setting the stage for her ruse. He sat, transfixed to the viewer, unable to look away yet horrified by what he knew was going to be shown. He was repulsed at being duped into bedding this woman with whom he had a thorny past. But also, he was ashamed at how he treated her during the rendezvous.  
  
He realized, that at the time, it wasn't Narcissa, it was Mira, the woman whom he claimed to love. But in the scenario playing out before his eyes, he treated her as nothing more than a mistress. Had he just bothered to sit with her and talk with her and ask her about her trip into London, maybe Narcissa would have slipped up and exposed the whole ruse. But, he had gone to her with one thing, and only one thing, in mind. He regretted how he had used her, and how he often took her for granted.  
  
He struggled with that aspect of his life. He never really had a serious romantic relationship. Not even the affair with his first lover ventured much farther than the physical. Women either used him for power or he used them for pleasure. Love was something new. He didn't know how to cultivate a relationship. Memories of his parents' relationship were of no help. They had a stereotypical highborn arranged marriage. A favorable merger of two family bloodlines. Love, much less affection, was never even part of the equation. Having been raised to enter into a marriage based in familial duty, not love, he felt as if he were muddling through it and swore at himself for being so inept.  
  
His attention drawn back to images in the crystal, he wondered to himself: Why the ruse? Why after all these years, would she go through the risk and trouble to do this? That was something the crystal could not show him. He did know that the Malfoys were a pair of very twisted individuals and they thrived on playing mind games and orchestrating elaborate revenge scenarios.  
  
Realizing that Lucius had been sitting at home, watching his wife come to another man in the body of another woman made his stomach turn. Was this merely some form of erotic game for the Malfoys? And the thought of Lucius Malfoy, sitting and watching Mira at her most intimate and vulnerable moments, caused him to hurl the far seeing orb across the room in a fit of rage, where it shattered against the stone wall. It was destroyed evidence, but evidence that had the potential to cause further harm. It was best that Mira never knew of the crystal and orb, and with the orb destroyed, Lucius could not access the images ever again.  
  
Besides, the professor had already made up his mind. If he got to Lucius first, there would be nothing left of him to bring into court for an inquiry. Had it not been for Dumbledore's constant checking on him to make sure he didn't leave to try anything foolish, he would already have paid a visit to the Malfoy country estate. Dumbledore managed to convince the professor to wait. He would alert the ministry that there was a credible report that Malfoy was not dead but alive and committing more acts of treachery. They would start surveillance on the Malfoy's country estate as well as their supposedly unplottable city residence, which seemed to have been abandoned shortly before the battles. Once the ministry determined where Lucius was holed up, and who all was assisting him, they would make their move to bring him in for trial. But, Professor Snape was forced to give his word to Dumbledore that he would not act on his own. Dumbledore feared that the disturbing dreams Harry was experiencing could be related. He didn't mention the dreams to Professor Snape just yet, but kept them in mind as he tried to figure out what it all meant. And until he knew what the professor's role in all of this was, he wanted to proceed cautiously  
  
That night, after supper, Professor Snape made a point to sit down with Mira and ask her how her afternoon in the greenhouses went, and to carry on an actual conversation with her. He found that it was easier than he had expected it to be, and surprisingly pleasant to carry on a discussion not related to anything of great consequence. Not that he had any desire to spend time in the teachers' lounge, making inane chit-chat with Professor Sprout over tea and biscuits. After all, he did have his limits. 


	59. The Twelfth Day of Christmas

Author's Notes: Special note to my friend who was disappointed over the fact that I didn't let Lucius have his wicked way with Mira. Deee-nied! Sorry. I never had any intention of letting that come to pass. The point was more that he would and could but in the end isn't as in control over his little schemes as he would like to think. Hope the end of this chapter makes up for it.  
  
I have a very love-hate thing over Lucius Malfoy. From reading the books, I despised his character. He was the epitome of privileged amorality. I mean I utterly loathed his character. Until I went to see the Chamber of Secrets movie and Jason Issacs walked onto the screen in all of his blonde Lucius lusciousness. How on Earth could such an evil bastard be so damn sexy? Thus began my love-hate relationship with his character.  
  
Sexual themes containing mild dominance at the end. Just how "R" is R- rated anyway? Hmmm..  
  
Disclaimers: If you recognize it from the movies or books, it doesn't belong to me.  
  
Chapter 59: The Twelfth Day of Christmas  
  
The unlicensed healer had given Narcissa Malfoy a thorough examination, and confirmed that she was indeed pregnant. With the health of mother and embryo confirmed, the healer administered the first of a series of development acceleration potions. With time of the essence, the capabilities of human physiology were pushed to the limit. Each dose of potion would speed up the development of the unborn child by a month's time. Usually prescribed to witches whose babies were coming early, the potion could theoretically be used to shorten pregnancy to mere weeks instead of the usual nine months.  
  
But there was a price. The mother would suffer from prolonged fatigue, and the child would be born physically weak and remain frail throughout its life. Lucius ordered the healer to deliver the potion as frequently as possible without risking the life of mother and child. Once the pregnancy had reached half-term, the ritual required to unite the disembodied spirit of Voldemort with the body of the unborn child could take place. And with that kind of power bound to a corporeal body, physical frailty would be of little consequence.  
  
Lucius sat in his study, thinking of the events he had helped set into motion. If all went as planned, spirit would be united to body in less than two weeks, and the child would be born in little over a month. With continued use of growth acceleration potions, the re-embodiment of the Dark Lord could come of age in less than a year. Within one year's time, the tide could turn and Lucius would be redeemed. With his son at his side, there would be no limit to the level of power he could achieve as second in command to the Dark Lord.  
  
He compiled a mental list of witches and wizards whose support he could count on, and wondered how the surviving Death Eaters would react when they once again felt the burning of the Dark Mark. He laughed to himself, imagining the looks on the faces of those who pretended never to be involved with Voldemort, when they realized he was back.  
  
Thursday morning, Mira woke and pulled open the curtains of the large four- poster bed in her guest suite. She noticed the door between the guest suite and the professor's private chambers was already open, and she could see torchlight flickering on the other side of the passageway. He must have started working very early in the morning. Mira wondered to herself just how much he slept here at Hogwarts. Aside from a couple times at her apartment in New Orleans, she had never fallen asleep after him or awakened before him. Mira knew that he made liberal use of alertness potions, as he was the type who became so involved with work that eating and sleeping were mere distractions from the task at hand. It was something she could not relate to at all.  
  
She quickly got cleaned up and dressed in front of the little bathroom fireplace. Her bruises no longer pained her, but still showed in ugly purple streaks on her upper arms. Her face had healed up nicely though, leaving only a tiny red mark on the edge of her mouth. Prepared for the day, she went to say good morning to Professor Snape. On her way through the guest chambers, she spotted two large parcels from Treadle's sitting on the table in the sitting room with a parchment scroll. She opened the top one and found her fancy dress formal robe and headdress. The scroll from Dumbledore reminded her that the Twelfth Night masquerade ball was to be held that evening at eight o' clock, and she and the professor would be needing their robes.  
  
She took the scroll on through the passageway into the professor's chambers. He was in his laboratory, grinding up something that looked like small oyster shells with a mortar and pestle. He had heard her footsteps as she approached, and didn't bother to look up.  
  
"Good morning, Mira. I was beginning to wonder if you were going to sleep all morning, it's nearly nine o' clock."  
  
"My apologies. I forgot that some of us feel the appropriate time for waking up is a half hour before sunrise."  
  
He smirked as he measured out a handful of the pearly oyster shells onto an old-fashioned counterweight scale. The measure just right, he tipped the shells into the mortar and pushed it towards Mira.  
  
"Do you mind? All you need to do is grind them to powder. I have to check the flame under the large cauldron in the corner."  
  
Mira took the pestle in hand and continued grinding the tiny oyster shells as the professor fussed over the cauldron, increasing the intensity of the flames. The fire just so, he sorted through a shelf of bottles containing various other substances and returned to the workbench.  
  
"Very good. You're doing a better job than many of my students. Except for Miss Granger, of course. "  
  
Mira looked up at him and smiled.  
  
"Of course. Hey, did you forget about the big dance tonight?"  
  
"No, but I had hoped everybody else would have. Why?"  
  
"Oh, time must have gotten away from me because the headmaster had our fancy dress robes sent over from the shop, and I just remembered the dance was tonight when I saw them."  
  
"Hmmm. Well, you already know that it's not exactly something I've been looking forward to. I've been to these events, and they're exceptionally boring. Mostly highborn witches and wizards wearing robes that cost more than the professors here at the school earn in a year's time; pretending to be interested in the school while their true agenda lies in seeing who arrives with the flashiest robes and most expensive jewels."  
  
"Oh come on. You can't stand there and tell me that you're not the slightest bit interested in seeing the sheer spectacle of it?"  
  
The professor shrugged and took the mortar and pestle from Mira, and rubbed some of the powdered shells between his thumb and forefinger, testing the consistency. Satisfied that they were of a fine enough grind, he carried them to the cauldron in the corner, and slowly stirred them in. He returned to the workbench and started absentmindedly wiping the mortar and pestle clean of all traces of the oyster shells.  
  
"Honestly Mira? No. I've seen it all before, and it holds absolutely no attraction to me. Although, with the Malfoys out of the picture, there should be some serious competition to see who will take their place as the new reigning wizarding society couple. That could be interesting, from a spectator's perspective I suppose."  
  
"Well, I guess I'm just not as cynical over it because I've never been to anything like this. I've been to the Mardi Gras balls in New Orleans, which I suppose are the closest muggle equivalent. But, nothing like this in the wizarding world."  
  
"Not even with your cousin? I have heard that her husband mixes in some very highborn circles."  
  
"Oh no. Nothing close. Albert may have business contacts with some of the truly highborn, but in all honesty, they're not even nouveau riche. In American standards, they're upper middle class."  
  
"Hmmm. So, she and Albert won't be at the ball?"  
  
"No way. She was literally green with envy when she found out I had been invited. I honestly thought she was going to have to go throw up. But, knowing her, she'll find a way to exploit my being here for the ball to her benefit. So, what exactly should I expect this evening?"  
  
"Well, there will be a banquet. Like the Christmas feast, but much on a much grander scale. Afterwards, the members of the school governing board will lead a procession from the head table, and the ball will begin."  
  
"And where will we be during all of this?"  
  
"At the head table with the governing board and the rest of the school representatives."  
  
"Oh. I thought we were going to just be part of the crowd with the faculty and other guests."  
  
"No. As the head of Slytherin house, I am expected to attend and sit at the head table as a representative of the school. And if that weren't enough, we are going to be in the procession as well. So, now do you see why I'm not terribly enthusiastic about it? The notion of being displayed and paraded around like a prized pet in front of people who consider me a disgrace to my ancestors is not high on my list of fun things to do."  
  
"So, what happens after the procession?"  
  
"We are part of the group which leads the first dance. I know you're familiar with formal wizarding dance; so you should have no problem managing that part. And then after the first dance, we're expected to mingle and be charming and put on a good show for the benefit of the school."  
  
Professor Snape swept the powder residue off of the workbench with a flick of his wand, and turned to place the mortar and pestle back on the shelf behind him. He checked on the cauldron in the corner, adjusted the flames, and returned to Mira's side.  
  
"Shouldn't you be helping Professor Sprout in the greenhouses?"  
  
"No, she said she wasn't going to be working in them today. I suppose she'll be taking it easy so that she can be rested and ready for the ball."  
  
"Good, you can help me then. Since you have proven yourself more than capable of grinding oyster shells to powder, I think I can entrust you with chopping the ginger root."  
  
He handed her a slab of marble to be used as a cutting surface, a sharp knife, and large piece of peeled ginger root.  
  
"Very small pieces please. In cooking terms, it would be minced."  
  
Mira nodded in understanding and proceeded with her task. As she minced up the ginger, she inhaled the sharp spicy fragrance.  
  
"Is this the same kind of ginger that you cook with?"  
  
"What other kind of ginger would it be?"  
  
"I mean, is it treated with anything? Would it be safe to nibble on?"  
  
"It's safe to eat, but I need most of it for the potion."  
  
Mira sliced a thin sliver of ginger off the root and popped it in her mouth. She thought that she could get used to this side of potions making. Grinding up pearly shells and mincing ginger made for pleasant enough busywork. It was all the slimy bits and foul smelling substances that she could do without.  
  
"So, what exactly are we making here?"  
  
"A variation on the standard wit-sharpening potion. Focusing Formula. I intend to have the house elves lace the students' meals with it when the new term begins so that they'll pay attention in my class."  
  
Mira looked at him with a shocked look on her face.  
  
"You mean, you're gonna spike the kids' food with potion so that they pay attention in class?"  
  
"Oh for the love of Merlin, Mira! You know that Dumbledore would never let me get away with it. Madame Pomfrey has requested it for the first years who are feeling a bit overwhelmed, to help them get through the rest of the year. And for the upper level students who are studying for their O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. exams."  
  
"Aaah, okay. I thought you were serious there for a second."  
  
"I never said that my hand might not slip when carrying a vial of the potion through the kitchens. It's a quick shortcut from the dungeons to the hospital wing, and if I'm in a hurry, well, who knows what could happen?"  
  
Mira laughed and shoved the marble slab with the pile of minced ginger on it towards him.  
  
"You'd do it, too!"  
  
He merely shrugged and added the ginger to the bubbling potion in the cauldron. He cleaned the knife and marble slab, and put them back on the shelf.  
  
"Well, that's it. It has to simmer for a few hours before it can be strained. And then it has to cool a bit before it can be bottled."  
  
He joined Mira at the large stone washbasin, and they washed their hands thoroughly with the harsh soap, which neutralized potions ingredients. Her hands dried, and sleeves rolled back down, Mira turned towards him.  
  
"So, what now?"  
  
"Nothing. That's the only project I have planned for today. We'll need to get ready for the ball after it's bottled."  
  
"So, there's not enough time to start and finish anything else while it simmers?"  
  
The professor chose a large hourglass off of a shelf filled with hourglasses of all shapes and sizes. He upended it next to the cauldron and walked behind Mira. He leaned in close to whisper in her ear.  
  
"Oh, there are plenty of things I can think of that we can start and finish while it simmers."  
  
The professor shut the laboratory door and secured the room with protective wards. He took Mira by the hand and led her past his chambers, through the secret passageway and into the guest suite. After locking the door behind him and casting a security charm on the front door; he took off his coat and tossed it onto the bench at the foot of the bed.  
  
He kicked off his shoes and reclined against the pile of overstuffed pillows at the head of the bed. Mira kicked off her own shoes and untied the draperies from the posts; where they had been secured by the house- elves in her absence. She pulled the curtains closed around the bed and climbed up next to him. He reached out for her, and she playfully slapped his hand away.  
  
"Why don't you lie back and get comfortable."  
  
With a wickedly curious smirk, he rearranged himself against the pillows and leaned back with his hands behind his head, ankles crossed. Mira leaned over him and kissed him softly on the lips. He reached out to embrace her and she took his hands and positioned his arms down at his sides, flat on the bed.  
  
"Just lie back, close your eyes, and relax."  
  
He settled his head down in the nest of pillows and closed his eyes.  
  
"Good. Now don't move."  
  
Mira kissed him again, and unbuttoned the collar of his shirt. She reached behind his head, and pulled his hair out from under his shoulders and smoothed it out on the pillow. She reached up, unpinned her hair and tossed the combs down at the foot of the bed. She leaned in to whisper something in his ear, and he turned his cheek towards her warm breath. Changing her mind, she simply brushed her lips across his ear and trailed her hair across his face. He shifted against the bed and uncrossed his ankles. She finished unbuttoning his shirt and untucked it from his trousers. She pushed the shirt open, and watched his chest rise and fall with his breathing. She could tell by the set of his mouth that he was enjoying the game. Anticipating what was to come. Mira bent down and kissed him in the tender spot between his ear and jaw. He inhaled sharply and grabbed her around the waist. She pulled away abruptly.  
  
"Uh uh. Lie back, close your eyes, and don't move."  
  
She took his hands and pushed them back down against his sides and crawled on top of him, straddling his thighs, pinning his hands between her knees and his body. She leaned forward again and kissed him on the throat, feeling as well as hearing the deep rumbling growl of pleasure he released following a deep sigh. His hands tensed beside her knees, and she brushed her cheek and hair across his chest. He shifted his hips and left no question to the level of his desire. Mira giggled to herself and slid farther down his legs, following the tapering path of black hair that led from his chest to his navel with her lips. She kissed the pale flesh beneath his navel, causing him to inhale sharply and clench his hands shut.  
  
She sat back on her heels and slowly unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his trousers. Mira pulled herself back up his body and kissed him slowly and tenderly. He reached up and slid his hands down her back and pressed his body against hers. She pulled away and kneeled up above him.  
  
"Put your hands back at your sides or the game's over and I'll grab my shoes and go see if Sprout can use my help."  
  
With a frustrated growl, he put his hands back down at his side.  
  
"That's better. Now, just lie back and enjoy it."  
  
She slowly teased her way back down his body with her lips and didn't stop at his navel. His whole body tensed and he rubbed his palms against the soft bedcovers, losing himself in the velvet waves of pleasure. Mira felt his breathing get shallower and she reached up and raked her fingernails down his chest. He gasped and grabbed her head, twining his fingers in her hair. She pushed his hands away and leaned back on her heels. He looked up at her with a glazed look in his eyes.  
  
"For the love of Merlin, woman! Why the hell did you stop?"  
  
"Because you didn't play by the rules. You moved your hands."  
  
He stared at her with a look of utter disbelief on his face.  
  
"Relax. I have no intentions of leaving you high and dry, so to speak. Now just lie back, close your eyes and be still."  
  
He threw his head back onto the pillow and clenched his fists at his side, betraying the tension and anticipation he was feeling at that moment.  
  
"That's better."  
  
Mira pulled her robe off over her head and tossed it at the foot of the bed. She undid her bra and shimmied out of her underwear, tossing them onto the top of the pile of clothes. Undressed, she turned her attention back to the professor. She pushed his trousers down to his knees and stretched herself up against his body.  
  
"Are you ready for more?"  
  
He shook his head. She arranged herself atop him and began to make love to him slowly, almost too slowly. It took a great deal of will for her to control herself and drag it out as long as possible. Eventually she was overcome by desire herself, and let go of all restraint. She looked down at her side and saw him fighting to keep his hands off of her and tensing his entire body trying to remain as still as possible. She laughed to herself over just how far he had gone with the game.  
  
The tension exploded in a climax so intense as to leave him panting for air. Mira stretched out beside him and whispered in his ear.  
  
"You can move your hands now."  
  
He pulled her close and held her until his breathing returned to normal. They lay together for some time, until Mira fell asleep with her head on his shoulder. 


	60. The Raven and the Butterfly

Author's Notes: Okay, a bit about the end of the previous chapter. As a reader pointed out to me, Snape doesn't really seem like the type to take a submissive role in the bedroom. I agree, he doesn't. I cannot imagine him as a submissive in the usual sense. But the game between he and Mira was just that, a game. I can see him allowing himself to be playfully dominated for a bit of a novelty experience. The implication is that he could have simply overpowered her at any moment he wished, and she knew it, and he knew she knew it and that was part of the excitement of the game.  
  
In this chapter and the next, I'm attempting to describe the cream of the wizarding crop at their finest and provide a dramatic visual image of pure luxurious fantasy. Hogwarts holds a ball. And the party will be crashed by an uninvited guest.  
  
Disclaimers: Nothing you recognize from the books or movies belongs to me.  
  
Chapter 60: The Raven and the Butterfly  
  
Not quite asleep, Mira felt a soft blanket being tucked around her shoulders. She reached out for the professor and her hand came to rest on a bony little arm. She bolted upright in bed and found herself staring at an equally startled house-elf. Realizing she had no clothes on, she snatched the blanket up under her chin. The little elf crawled back to the edge of the bed, apologizing profusely for startling her.  
  
"Where did you come from?"  
  
"Oh, begging your pardon missus, I was bringing fresh towels to your bathroom and there you was, sound asleep under only a thin coverlet. It is horrible cold and icy today missus. You could catch cold and miss the ball! You see missus, I didn't mean to wake you from your nap, I only wanted to make sure you were warm and cozy, I did."  
  
The tiny little elf looked at her with impossibly large and impossibly blue eyes, fringed by the longest lashes Mira had ever seen. Obviously a she- elf, the little creature wore what appeared to be a lace trimmed pillowcase with holes cut for her arms and head to go through. She had a checked tea towel tied around her waist as an apron and a little doily perched atop her head like a maid's cap.  
  
"It's okay. You didn't mean to startle me; and it was very kind of you to bring me a blanket. Thank you."  
  
The little elf blushed and hopped off the bed, pulling the curtains shut.  
  
"Wait! Before you go, could you tell me what time it is?"  
  
"It is a quarter of three, missus. Shall I draw a bath so that you can pretty yourself up for the ball?"  
  
"Oh, no, that won't be necessary. It's not quite time for me to get ready yet."  
  
"Very well, missus. If you should have any need for me, then you just ring."  
  
"Thank you, I will."  
  
The elf nodded her head and scampered on out through the little secret door at the side of the fireplace. Mira waited to make sure she was gone and climbed out of bed. At least the elf was a she-elf. The thought of male elves creeping around her chambers at any time made her decidedly uncomfortable. Finding no sign of Professor Snape in her guest chambers, she pulled her clothes back on and crossed through the passageway into his chambers. There was no sign of him in his private rooms, but saw movement in the small advanced potions laboratory. He was standing over the cauldron of potion she helped him brew earlier, taking notes in a large black leather bound book.  
  
Mira cleared her throat to get his attention.  
  
"I knew you were there Mira. Did you have a nice nap? I'm afraid you missed lunch, but there are some pumpkin scones on my desk. I only wanted some hot tea, but as you know, the elves have a serious problem with having to do too much."  
  
"Yeah, tell me about it. I almost jumped out of my skin a few minutes ago when I woke up to find a little female house-elf hovering over me with a blanket."  
  
"I conjured the coverlet out from under you and made sure you weren't exposed before I left."  
  
"When did you come back to your lab?"  
  
"Right after you fell asleep."  
  
He finished his notes, shut the large potions lab journal, and sat down at his desk. He motioned towards the plate of scones sitting on the edge, next to an empty teacup.  
  
"There's tea in the pot, it's still warm. The school teapots are perpetually warming and refreshing. More of Dumbledore's special little tricks I assume."  
  
Mira sat on the edge of his desk and poured herself a cup of tea and picked up a scone.  
  
"So now what? I take it the potion is finished."  
  
"Yes, and you woke up just in time to help me strain it and bottle it."  
  
Mira finished her snack while the professor used his wand to shift a dozen glass bottles and a tall slender strainer and funnel contraption from the supply cabinets to the workbench in the corner. She brushed the crumbs off of her lap and downed the last of the cup of tea. Together, they carried out the painstaking task of bottling the focusing formula. Snape carefully measured and poured while Mira steadied the straining funnel. The dozen bottles for Pomfrey sealed and labeled, he ladled the dregs of the cauldron into another smaller bottle and labeled it for his private stores.  
  
When they were done, the professor cleaned the cauldron while Mira sat and watched. He first used a cleansing charm to do most of the work, and then used a damp cloth to meticulously wipe the inside completely clean of any residue. Satisfied the cauldron was clean, he repeated the process on all the other utensils used for the potion before returning them to their place on the special supply shelf behind his desk.  
  
"So, where is this robe I'm supposed to be wearing this evening? Let's have a look. And for your sake, it had better be as understated as you promised or I will curse a wart onto your chin that you won't be able to get off before the ball."  
  
Mira laughed and motioned for him to follow her through the passageway back to her chambers. He sat in one of the armchairs in the sitting area, arms folded over his chest. Mira carried the large box to the other chair and unfolded the robe from the crinkly tissue paper it was wrapped in. She held it up so that he could get a good look.  
  
"Hmmm. It'll do. I'm not going to lie to you and say I love it, because I find the whole notion of fancy dress balls for adults to be completely inane. However, I do appreciate the fact that you ensured I won't be dressed like a fop or a dandy this evening. I shudder to think what I would be saddled with if Dumbledore had chosen the robe for me."  
  
Mira folded it back up and put it back in the box. She handed it to him and sat on the other chair.  
  
"Well, it's close to five, and I really would like to have plenty of time to get ready. You know how us females are. Hours to prepare for a big party."  
  
Snape rolled his eyes, made a flippant snorting noise at her and rose from the chair. He bent down, kissed her on the forehead, and swept out of the room. Mira sat back before the fire and reached for the house-elf bell.  
  
Following a decadently long soak in a tub full of scented bubbles, Mira found all the items she had requested from the dainty little house-elf laid out for her on the dressing table. There was a manicure kit, a selection of hair grooming potions, and some assorted wizarding brand cosmetics. Where a house-elf found those kinds of things in a school she didn't really want to know. She hoped she wasn't about to avail herself of the things some poor student accidentally left behind over the Christmas holidays. Her robe was also freshly pressed of any wrinkles, hanging on the outside of the wardrobe for her.  
  
After liberal amounts of Sleekeezy's hair tonic and a run through with a curious comb which gave off tiny sparks as it passed through her hair, Mira's wild curls were tamed into soft glossy spiraling ringlets. Too pretty to pin up, she decided to wear it down for the evening. She buffed her fingernails and smoothed the edges to half-ovals. The robe was really two separate robes. There was a very form fitting heavier foundation robe; meant to be worn under the more delicate bead encrusted butterfly robe. Mira pulled on a pair of stockings, and squeezed herself into the under- robe. After taking a quick breather, she finished primping before the mirror, applying the special scar concealing makeup around her mouth, to cover the last of the marks on her face. Her arms still had some faint bruising, but they would be covered by the robe's full hanging sleeves.  
  
She dabbed perfume behind her ears, in her cleavage, and on the backs of her knees. Satisfied with her toilette, she carefully unzipped the heavy formal robe and stepped into it. After pulling the sleeves on, she stood straight, reached for her wand on the dressing table and muttered a little incantation. The zipper closed itself and magically blended away into the pattern of beading on the back of the dress. She twisted the front pieces of her hair back off of her face and anchored them with the fancy jeweled butterfly antennae diadem. She spotted her diamond brooch on the back of the dressing table. Having been cleaned of her attacker's blood, she pinned it to a piece of black silk ribbon and tied it around her neck. Dressed in her finery, she stepped into her black dance slippers, and took a moment to admire herself in the wardrobe mirror.  
  
In the subterranean dungeons, Professor Snape completed his much more abbreviated grooming routine. After a quick bath, he dried and combed his hair, cleaned the remaining potion lab residue from under his fingernails and put on his usual trousers and shirt. He admired the luxurious fabric of the robe's cuffs and collar. He pulled it on and clasped it shut. He turned in front of the mirror and allowed himself a quick smirk of vanity. Noticing that his hair was catching in the lush collar of the robe, he rummaged in his wardrobe and unearthed a strip of black silk ribbon. He combed his hair back off of his face and tied it in a loose ponytail with the ribbon. Satisfied with his appearance, he tucked his wand into the hidden pocket of the robe and headed out of the potions wing. As he was locking and securing the door to the potions classroom, he heard movement coming from around the corner.  
  
"Crabbe! Goyle! Show yourselves immediately!"  
  
The two boys stepped out from around the corner.  
  
"No need to even try explaining yourselves. You both know that all students are confined to their house dormitories this evening."  
  
"But professor. How are we gonna get our supper if we're stuck in the dormitory?"  
  
"Not that skipping a meal wouldn't be a fitting punishment for slinking around the corridors, but had you been paying attention at breakfast, you would have heard the headmaster explain that supper will be served to the students in their house common room."  
  
Both boys nodded their head in understanding and turned to head back to the dorm.  
  
"Not so fast boys. You are still out of bounds, and I'm afraid you will have to be punished. The rest of your classmates return on Monday, so your punishment will be to dust all the wardrobes and bedside tables in the Slytherin dormitories. Without using any magic."  
  
The boys sighed with disgust and acknowledged the professor. After being dismissed to their common room, they turned the corner, and the professor could hear them grumbling all the way down the hall.  
  
"Bloody big-nosed bastard! Who does he think he is punishing us all the time? If Malfoy was still here, he'd have his dad straighten old Snape out right quick."  
  
"Yeah, sure would. And did you get a load of that robe he's got on? Looked like something Dumbledore's great, great, great grandfather would have worn."  
  
The professor snarled under his breath and finished securing his door. He then cast a barricade charm on the Slytherin dormitory door to make sure that the boys weren't able to prowl the dungeons during the ball. Hoping to encounter Peeves, just for an excuse to cast a curse on something, Professor Snape made his way out of the dungeons and through the main corridors to the guest suite.  
  
Some of the guests were beginning to arrive. Those with flying carriages pulled by enchanted animals touched down at the main entrance of the school. Those with portcarriages or arriving by apparition arrived at a spot just outside the school gates, where they were ferried to the front door in the school carriages. The professor heard the sounds of a small orchestra tuning up in the great hall. An incredibly long red silk carpet stretched through the corridors, leading from the front door to the hall.  
  
He passed several couples, all who had on velvet traveling cloaks, on their way to the ball. Hagrid, dressed as the Old Man of the Forest, met him coming down the hallway and nodded a greeting.  
  
"Just nippin' out ter see if I've got some spare fairy eggs in the magical creatures supply shed. Dumbledore spotted a bowtruckle hiding out in the ball of mistletoe he had me hang in the hall. I could'a sworn there t'weren't no bowtruckles in that tree before I cut the stuff down. But if Dumbledore says there's a bowtruckle in the mistletoe, then a bowtruckle in the mistletoe there is."  
  
Professor Snape smiled weakly at him and turned down the little side corridor leading to Mira's guest quarters. He raised his hand to knock at the door, and changed his mind. He smoothed his hair back off of his forehead and straightened the front of his robes. And then he knocked on the heavy wooden door.  
  
Mira heard the knock and snatched up a little beaded handbag, stuffing her wand and a few miscellaneous odds and ends from the dressing table into it. She gave herself one last look in the mirror, and straightened the front of her robe before answering the door. The professor opened his mouth to say something, but hesitated, his lips slightly parted.  
  
"Mira, love."  
  
He took her hand and guided her out into the torchlight. He stood and looked her up and down, reaching out to stroke the back of his hand down her hair.  
  
"I'm at a loss for words. You are exquisite."  
  
She blushed and looked down at her feet. He tilted her head up gently by her chin and kissed her softly on the lips. After she locked her door, he held out his arm to escort her to the great hall. As they approached the main corridor, he leaned over to whisper to her.  
  
"You will be the object of envy for many a witch this evening; and the object of desire for many a wizard."  
  
She blushed again and squeezed his forearm as they made the journey from the guest suite to the great hall. Upon arrival, a house-elf in fancy brocade drapery motioned for them to turn down a side corridor.  
  
"Good evening professor sir, and missus. You will be entering through the back entrance to the head table."  
  
Snape nodded acknowledgement and led Mira down the narrow side corridor to the entrance of the head of the hall. He helped her up the steps to the platform where the head table was situated. This evening, the configuration was much different. The head table formed a squared off upside down U shape with Dumbledore in the center. To his side was Deputy Headmistress McGonagall. There were seats for twelve on each side. Snape motioned towards the closest of the short side tables, which formed the wide U. There were three seats. Little Professor Flitwick was already seated on the end closest to the back of the room. Snape guided Mira to her seat, between the two wizards. Flitwick jumped to his feet as Mira was seated. Snape gave a quick glance around the room, noticing that only half of the attendees had arrived, and settled himself into his own chair at the end of the table.  
  
Mira looked around the hall, in complete awe of the beauty surrounding her. Instead of the usual floating candles, there were hundreds, no thousands of shimmering glowing crystal bowls holding candles. The entire ceiling looked like one gigantic chandelier. The enormous Christmas trees were decorated with crystal and gold and silver ornaments, and twinkling enchanted lights. The middle of the floor was clear of tables, presumably for dancing, and opposite the head table was a raised platform with what appeared to be an entire orchestra. Some with familiar muggle instruments, some with instruments which looked like they came from a fairytale.  
  
And speaking of fairytales, Mira's eyes grew wide at the array of veritable eye-candy costumes and allegorical theme robes worn by the attendees seated at the long tables running the length of the sides of the hall. Elaborate headdresses; some floating over perfectly coiffed heads, some with moving parts. Professor Flitwick was wearing a fairly simple robe, an approximation of a Venetian scholar's robe. She thought that he looked like a miniature version of a character from a Shakespearean play. Dumbledore had on a robe embroidered in glimmering gold and red threads, depicting the feathers of a phoenix. A stylized crest of feathers trembled above his short squat cap. McGonagall looked regal in her taffeta tartan robe, her hair caught up in a fancy knot, held with a gold and silver thistle ornament. A sash across her chest was emblazoned with thistles, which shimmered from gold to silver and back again.  
  
A few of the attendees were in complete costume, including elaborate masquerade masks, which looked like the ones sold in the very expensive boutiques during Mardi Gras time in New Orleans. She recognized a few of the attendees in the crowd. Two of the women who were friends of Narcissa Malfoy, openly stared at her and whispered behind carved ivory fans, undoubtedly trying to figure out who she was. House elves in rich brocade drapery stood at the main entrance to the great hall, greeting guests, and showing them around the bandstand to their tables.  
  
Mira looked down at the table at the golden plates and silver goblets and eating utensils. A parchment with very pretty calligraphy listed the menu for the evening. Five courses of gourmet wizarding food. The name of the musical troupe was the "London Wizarding Philharmonic". Beneath the crystal candle-bowls were enormous ropes of holly and ivy, anchored at the edges of the dance floor and converging at an enormous globe of red ribbons and mistletoe. Hagrid discreetly approached the centerpiece with a box. He opened it and raised it as high above his head as he could. A little creature zoomed from the greenery into the box. He quickly clamped the lid shut and exited the hall.  
  
As the last of the guests arrived, Hagrid entered through the entrance to the head table with Professor Sprout on his arm. The rosy-cheeked witch was dressed in a dark green robe with thick bands of jeweled flowers, which opened and shut at random intervals. She wore a beautiful flower shaped tiara atop her head, the petals reaching skyward like points on a crown. They seated themselves on the short table directly across from she and the professors. Mira noticed that most of the guests of honor, the school governing board and their partners, arrived last, to make a dramatic entrance. If the robes in the lower tables were eye candy, the robes worn by the men and women sitting at the sides of the headmaster and his deputy were visual feasts. Men wearing robes of fabric, which cost more per ounce than gold. Most depicting themes of animals from the highborn family crests. Women in themed robes, depicting everything from historical dress to allegorical themes, to historical figures. A woman seated close to Professor McGonagall had on a mask, which was covered in colored gemstones, set to perfectly mirror her facial features. From a distance, it merely looked as if her face were sparkling. Mira guessed that it was an older witch, presenting the face of her youth. Judging from the woman's hands, it seemed the most likely explanation.  
  
While she was busy trying to steal good glances at the other attendees and not be rude as to stare outright, Mira felt the weight of many pairs of eyes on herself. As she looked around, she noticed some quickly look away. And a few blatantly meet her own. She remembered what the professor had said to her in the hallway. He was right. She felt both envy and desire in the eyes, which bore down on her from many directions. However, she felt a distinctly creepy twisting sensation in her stomach when she caught the eye of a man in a full masquerade mask staring boldly at her. Dismissing the queasiness as a result of having skipped two meals that day, she looked at her place setting, hoping that dinner would be served soon.  
  
After the last of the guests were seated and given time to settle themselves, Headmaster Dumbledore rose from his seat and made a short speech. He welcomed his guests and explained that the Twelfth Night Masquerade Ball was held as a special way of honoring the school governing board for all of their hard work and support. As well as a chance to come together and enjoy each other's finery and company. He gestured towards the orchestra, and they began to play softly. Elegant background music for a feast of wizarding nobility. With a clap of his hands, the plates and goblets at the tables filled with the first course. 


	61. Twelfth Night

Author's Notes: It has been a very long time since my last update. But, here is one more chapter in the story.  
  
Disclaimers: Nothing you recognize from the books and/or movies belongs to me.  
  
Chapter 61: Twelfth Night  
  
Mira forced restraint upon herself when the first course of the feast magically appeared before her. Although she was very hungry, she was determined to not let word that she had spilled soup down the front of her robe, work it's way down the social pecking order to her cousin. She watched her manners, and tried her best not to gawk at the exotic and elegant finery surrounding her. Professor Snape wasn't in the mood to make idle conversation and seemed to be surreptitiously scanning the hall for somebody or something. Mira turned to her other tablemate, the Charms instructor and head of Ravenclaw house, Professor Flitwick. Flitwick was a lively and cheerful sort, who was simmering with excitement. He proudly explained his role in helping with the enchanted decorations, which ornamented the great hall, and pointed out specific things to Mira, such as the live fairies twinkling in the Christmas trees.  
  
A troupe of dancers entertained the diners between courses. After the last of the plates were magically whisked away to the kitchens, the dancers would converge on the dance floor for a brief performance. The style of dance was somewhat like muggle ballet, but without the elaborate costumes and toe shoes. The female dancers instead wore very flowing diaphanous robes, which trailed and swirled about them as they engaged in graceful spinning and sweeping motions to the lilting tempo of the orchestra. As the dancers took their leave, the musicians lowered the volume of their playing, and the next course magically appeared before all of the guests.  
  
After a fine dessert of tiny flaming puddings with silver and gold leafed holly sprigs for garnish, the feast came to an end. The hall buzzed with conversation during the interval between feasting and dancing. A pair of house-elves draped in brocade table runners opened the side door of the great hall to admit the wizarding press, who were confined to the area near the orchestra stage. Mira caught the eye of a very old wizard seated just a few chairs away from Headmaster Dumbledore. The white haired old man was staring at her wistfully and smiled when she caught his eye. He wore a heavy brown velvet robe with a pair of wyverns embroidered on the wide lapels. The flying serpents' wings shimmered and their long tails rippled as if they were soaring through the air. With a self-conscious little smile, Mira quickly looked away.  
  
Professor Snape nudged her gently with his knee and explained what would happen next. Mira started to ask him if he knew the white haired old wizard, but was interrupted by a fanfare of trumpets from the orchestra. Dumbledore and McGonagall rose and turned towards the table Mira was seated at. Professor Flitwick got up from his chair and made his way to the front of the center table, across from the Headmaster. He removed an enameled bronze coat of arms, bearing the school crest, from the front of the head table. He stepped down from the platform the head table was situated on, and stopped at the edge of the dance floor.  
  
McGonagall and Dumbledore walked around opposite sides of the table and joined each other behind Professor Flitwick. Snape squeezed Mira's hand and they rose in unison with Professor Sprout and Hagrid. They stepped away from their seats, and the professor led her solemnly to stand at McGonagall's side. Hagrid and Sprout positioned themselves at Dumbledore's side.  
  
All at once, the twenty-four people seated at the sides of the headmaster and deputy headmistress rose and stepped away from their chairs. Two couples at a time, they left their positions and stood on the platform behind the headmaster and school heads of house. When the last two pairs reached their position, magical photography flashbulbs exploded in multicolored flashes of light and puffs of smoke.  
  
The orchestra began to play a regal processional tune. Flitwick, the school crest-bearer, stepped forward, followed closely by Dumbledore and McGonagall. Sprout and Hagrid were next, and then Snape led Mira slowly down the step and into the procession. Two by two, the school governors and their partners followed suit. The professor led Mira down the length of the dance floor, where they then turned back and took their positions on the dance floor. The school representatives and guests of honor were configured in small groups for a formal opening dance. Mira did not recognize any of the other witches and wizards in her formation.  
  
When the last couple reached their position on the dance floor, the orchestra brought the processional music to a close. The music they played next wasn't quite as slow and ponderous, but was still very formal and somber. The opening dance was very similar to European medieval court dances. In unison, the couples stepped forward and touched the backs of their right hands to their partner's and then stepped back into line. They followed with their left hands. Then they stepped forward, right palm to right palm and made a clockwise circle around each other. This was mirrored with a counterclockwise circle. The next phase of the dance saw the women step forward to be met by a different man in the configuration. The couples then repeated the same series of steps, switching positions and partners. After every man had a turn with every woman in the sextet, they finished by repeating the series of steps once more with their partners.  
  
At the end of the dance, the women curtseyed and the men bowed. The spectators applauded and the dancers broke formation. Professor Snape took Mira by the arm and led her off of the dance floor. Some of the couples from the processional remained on the floor, and were joined by many of those who had been seated at the long rows of tables. The orchestra started playing and the guests began to dance. More or less, the dancing was a form of waltz, with very little physical contact.  
  
Mira and the professor stood in the shadow of a large pillar and were approached by a house-elf bearing a tray of slender crystal goblets containing a pale violet colored liquid that looked like champagne. Mira accepted a glass, Snape declined. She took a sip, and realized that it was like champagne, but vaguely fruity. Another house-elf followed suit with a tray of squat goblets containing a dark amber liquid. The professor accepted a glass of this drink, which Mira assumed was a brandy or whiskey. While they stood in the shadow, sipping their drinks, Mira asked the professor if he knew the old wizard who had smiled at her. He said that he didn't know him personally, but the old man had been on the school governors' board ever since he had arrived to teach at Hogwarts.  
  
The dancing consisted of sets of two or three waltz-like paired dances, followed by a more formal court type dance with small groups of four or six. Mira soon realized that Professor Snape had absolutely no intentions of setting foot back on the dance floor. He had been sipping from the same glass for nearly a half hour. Mira leaned against the column and watched the women's glittering costumes sparkle in the candlelight. She imagined what would happen if the orchestra spontaneously broke out into a wizarding rendition of the Hustle. The mental image of a couple hundred highborn witches and wizards shaking their backsides in unison made her bite her lip in an attempt to suppress a fit of the giggles. The professor looked at her, one eyebrow raised.  
  
"Are you okay? Don't tell me that glass of champagne went to your head."  
  
"Oh no, I just had an amusing thought. That's all."  
  
The music ended and the orchestra leader announced that they would be taking a very short break. Professor Snape took Mira's arm and led her back up to the head table, where a handful of people were sitting in conversation. They sat and said very little to each other. The professor was definitely uptight and not enjoying himself in the least. Mira couldn't decide whether it was because he was just plain uncomfortable being there, or if there was something else going on. He had been having his moods again. Ever since he brought her to stay at Hogwarts, she felt that he had something on his mind. She knew that he wasn't telling her everything regarding the incident with the man disguised as him. He wasn't sleeping well, he wasn't eating much, and despite his efforts in simply spending more time in conversation and shared tasks with her, he was often distant and distracted. He kept stealing quick glances around the crowd, as if he expected to see somebody he knew.  
  
There were at least two hundred people in attendance, most likely more. Mira watched the orchestra return to the stage and resume playing. Dozens of people drifted from the sidelines back onto the floor, and the press roamed around the area where the orchestra was situated, confined there by Dumbledore. This way, they were only able to interview the people who wished to be interviewed. Which Mira noted, was a significant number of the guests. Colored flashbulbs flashed and puffs of colored smoke drifted up and dissipated in the air as the photographers took their enchanted moving photographs.  
  
She was caught up in watching a flamboyant female reporter in the most gaudily colored robes, when a couple she recognized from Susan and Albert's dinner party approached the head table. She wracked her brain trying to remember their names. He was a ministry official, involved in customs and imports. But that's all she could remember.  
  
They introduced themselves, and the woman said that she thought she recognized Mira from Susan's New Year's Eve party, but wasn't quite sure until the procession. Mira stood and introduced them to the professor, who was slightly unnerved at being made to socialize with strangers. They sat together and made polite conversation about current events in the European wizarding community. The wife explained that their daughter would be attending Hogwarts when she was a little older, and being concerned parents, they were hoping to be nominated to the governing board. Mr. Comstock would be retiring his position in the springtime and her husband was on the short list of potential replacements. Mira learned that the old man who had smiled at her was Mr. Comstock, the oldest member of the governing board. While not quite as old as Headmaster Dumbledore, he was certainly beyond the normal muggle old age.  
  
The orchestra conductor announced that another formation dance was about to begin, and the woman suggested that they all four join in. Professor Snape shot Mira a look, which resembled a cross between anger and fear. She took his hand and leaned down to whisper in his ear.  
  
"Just this one, please. They're friends of my cousin, and I really can't say no."  
  
With a slight narrowing of his eyes, Snape stood and led Mira behind the other couple, onto the dance floor. It was a standard formal formation dance. All slow posturing and precise movements. After the final bow and curtsey, the couple thanked Mira and the professor for the dance, and went to get a drink. As they were getting ready to leave the dance floor, a man Mira didn't know approached them and asked the professor if he could have the pleasure of a dance with his lady. Snape looked at Mira, she shook her head, and he handed her over to the young man and retreated back to the head table.  
  
Mira learned that the man had recently returned from an extended travel tour. He had finished up at university the previous Spring, and spent the Summer and Fall traveling through Europe, on a tour of all the major wizarding settlements. He was the only son of a prominent highborn family, which traced their lineage back to the days of Merlin. His parents were abroad on family business, unable to attend the ball, and had passed the invitation along to him. Unable to find a date in time, he had the family's house-elf take in his father's fancy dress robe to fit, and he just came on his own for something to do. He was quite charming, and Mira thought a superb dancer.  
  
They shared a couple of dances, making polite conversation. Before the third song in the set began, the man in the full mask who caught Mira's eye earlier, approached and gestured that he wished to cut in. Mira didn't recognize him at all. His face was completely obscured by a Venetian carnival mask; and he walked very stiffly from the heavy brocade of his formal robes. Mira looked up, trying to make eye contact with him, and saw that the eyes of the mask were covered in a fine gold mesh. She shrugged and offered her hand to her mystery partner. He took it in a richly gloved hand, and lightly rested his other hand on her hip. This one was dancing a little more closely than was the custom. Mira tried to start a conversation with him, and he just shook his head and touched a gloved finger gently to her lips.  
  
Silently, he waltzed her around the dance floor, spiraling farther and farther away from the head table. Mira looked over and saw the professor watching them intently; with a very strange look on his face, which Mira interpreted as a twinge of jealousy. After all, the mystery man was closer than the norm. Much closer than the young wizard she had waltzed with earlier. Close enough that she could feel the warmth of his body through the heavy brocade fabric. Her partner guided her closer to the orchestra stage. As they turned in time to the music, Mira looked across the hall, and noticed that the professor looked very serious. She hoped he wouldn't be upset with her for dancing with the masked man. After all, it wasn't her fault that he was getting a bit close.  
  
The dance ended and her mystery partner guided her off the floor, near the orchestra stage. He gestured to her that he was going to get a drink. Mira thanked him for the dance and he excused himself. She was about to head back across the floor to the head table when a reporter called out to her.  
  
"Miss! Would you like to be interviewed for a new publication? It's called London Witch Journal, and I'm covering the ball for the debut issue."  
  
The man had a camera around his neck and carried a rolled up scroll and a feather quill in his pocket.  
  
"I don't know. It's my first time at one of these events, and I really don't know what to say."  
  
"Oh please, Miss. None of the others care to give me the time of day, seeing as we're such a new publication and all. It'd really be a favor to me if you gave me a good interview. And that's something you don't usually get when covering these events. The perspective of someone who's never been to any such thing before."  
  
"Well, okay. I suppose. What would you like to know?"  
  
The man took Mira by the hand and led her off the dance floor, beside the orchestra stage and started to ask her questions about the ball, and how she came to be at the head table. She looked up towards the head table to point out the professor, but noticed that he wasn't there. Probably, he had just gone to find a drink or speak with the headmaster. She thought little of his absence and turned her attention back to the reporter.  
  
Professor Snape recognized something in the masked man's movement, which triggered a feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach. He was certain that it was Malfoy. He recognized the mannerisms and something about him just felt wrong. He had lost them in the crowd as the waltz set ended and the musicians prepared for another formal formation dance. With a sigh of relief, he noticed that Mira was safe, being interviewed by a reporter. He turned his attention to where he saw the masked man last.  
  
The professor saw the man lingering near a side exit. He quickly moved through the crowd to catch up with the man, his hand gripping the wand in his pocket. Just as the man slipped out the door, Snape caught up with him and grabbed his shoulder.  
  
"Slipping away so soon?"  
  
The man stopped in his tracks, shoulders stiffened. Slowly he turned to face the professor.  
  
"Well, well; if it isn't the traitor. What keen eyes to spot me through my disguise. It was good enough to fool your ladylove."  
  
"It would be the first time one of your disguises fooled her, Malfoy."  
  
Lucius Malfoy laughed in amusement.  
  
"Ah, yes. I suppose I was a little bit distracted that night, I assume the Obliviate curse didn't take?"  
  
Professor Snape removed his wand from his pocket and held it to Malfoy's chest.  
  
"Just what are you and your wife playing at, Malfoy? Did you think that your perverted little game would go unnoticed?"  
  
"But it nearly did. Had the potion not gone wrong, neither you nor your lowborn whore would have ever known a thing."  
  
The professor backed Malfoy against the wall, blocking his wand from view with his body, and stared at the masked man with blazing eyes.  
  
"Tell me what this is all about Malfoy. Or would you rather wait and explain it at your trial?"  
  
Malfoy started to laugh, a deep quiet laugh.  
  
The reporter was chatting with Mira near the stage, when a large man in a Carnival mask similar to the one her earlier dance partner wore approached her and asked her for a dance. He explained that he ran into the professor at the drink station and he had given his permission. The reporter thanked Mira and kissed her hand. Blushing, she took the large man's hand and followed him to the dance floor. He gripped her hand and pulled her close to him, his other hand firmly cupped around her waist. They danced slowly, and Mira could feel the man's hand slide from her side to her back, where he fumbled around with his hanging sleeve. While intimate for wizarding dance standards, he wasn't making any inappropriate advances, so she followed his lead in the dance.  
  
Lucius Malfoy straightened against the brick wall and cleared his throat.  
  
"I'm afraid that there won't be any trial. Because you are going to put your wand back into your pocket and let me go."  
  
"You honestly think I am going to let you walk out of here, after what you have done?"  
  
"You have no choice. You see, while you were busy playing cat and mouse with me, my servant has been following Mira. He's got his wand to her back, and with one gesture from me, he will lead her into the shadows and whisper the killing curse into her ear."  
  
The professor kept his wand on Malfoy but looked over his shoulder towards the dance floor. He saw a large masked man dancing with Mira, holding her quite close. The tip of a wand was visible just peeking out from his hanging sleeve. Malfoy wasn't lying. The man could kill her instantly without making a scene.  
  
"Call your man off Malfoy. This isn't about Mira. It never was. Let her go and we'll settle this once and for all in a duel. Just you and me, here in the corridor."  
  
"Oh, but I think not. You see I'm not interested in duels or settling scores. I have bigger plans for you my old friend, much bigger plans. Plans, which unfortunately will have to wait. In the meantime, I suggest you put the wand down, and back away. Once I am clear of the building, my servant will let Mira go and leave unchallenged. If you try and stop him, he is under orders to kill Mira and as many others as he can before he is taken down himself. Binding spells are such a wonderful thing, are they not? You know he will sacrifice himself without a second thought to do my bidding. Now, put the wand down and back away."  
  
With a slightly trembling hand, the professor lowered his wand and stepped away from the masked man, and looked out to the dance floor. Malfoy nodded, turned on his heel and limped quickly down the hall. The professor watched his retreating form, wanting to run after him and curse him into oblivion, but knowing full well that the servant would do as ordered and Snape just could not risk it. The large man kept his eyes on the doorway and the professor, after enough time had passed to give Malfoy a chance to make it to the portcarriage; he guided Mira towards another service entrance. He stopped dancing and lifted his mask slightly, to kiss her hand. He slid the wand back up into his sleeve, and quickly disappeared down the corridor, leaving a confused Mira standing alone on the edge of the dance floor.  
  
Hagrid saw Mira's dance partner abandon her, and felt a slight bit of outrage at such a rude act. He approached Mira and offered to finish the dance set with her. Knowing the professor wouldn't mind, she accepted the offer and they eased their way back into the slowly moving crowd. Once he saw the servant leave the great hall, Professor Snape started working his way around the edges of the dance floor, towards the last place he saw Mira. He saw her dancing with Hagrid, and breathed a sigh of relief that she was in good hands. He turned towards the head table, where McGonagall, Sprout, Flitwick, and Dumbledore were sitting and conversing.  
  
"Albus, I need to speak with you right away, it's urgent".  
  
McGonagall opened her mouth to protest to the manner in which the Potions Master intruded into the conversation, but was cut off before she could say a word.  
  
"Minerva, you need to hear this too."  
  
Without apologizing or explaining to the other two professors, he stalked off the platform and into the antechamber where the guests of honor entered the great hall. The headmaster and his deputy followed behind, with a pursed expression on McGonagall's face, and a very concerned one on Dumbledore's.  
  
They caught up with him and McGonagall immediately lit into him.  
  
"This better be important, that was one of the rudest excuses for social manners I have ever seen!"  
  
"Malfoy's back."  
  
McGonagall's eyebrows shot up in surprise.  
  
"Malfoy's back? Are you talking about Draco? Is Draco here at the ball?"  
  
"No, Lucius. Lucius is back. He isn't dead. He crashed the party in disguise. I tried to detain him, but he was here with a servant, and they threatened Mira. I had to let them go. I'm sorry, but they would have killed her, and possibly innocent bystanders. I couldn't risk it."  
  
Dumbledore crossed his arms on his chest and looked down at the floor. McGonagall's eyes flitted from the professor to the headmaster, looking for an explanation.  
  
"Did he say anything to you? Anything about the potion incident, or why he was here tonight?"  
  
"No, nothing. I believe he was just here to taunt me. Or if he had other plans, they didn't work out as he expected. I challenged him to a duel in the corridor if he called his servant off of Mira, but he said he had other plans. I don't know what kind of plans he meant. But remember the matter we discussed Albus? I am almost certain it's connected. All of this is somehow connected. But it doesn't make sense."  
  
Dumbledore looked back down at the ground, and gently stroked his long beard. McGonagall's cheek started to twitch, but she knew better than to disturb the old wizard while he was deep in thought. Dumbledore thought of the polyjuice potion, and what the Malfoys had done with it. He remembered the days when his Potions Master was a student at school and the tangled history he shared with Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy. He thought about the recent reports about former suspected Death Eaters being overheard talking about the return of the Dark Lord. And the dreams Harry had been having. Oh it did make sense. It made terrifyingly perfect sense. But, could they really have found a way to pull it off? If so, then the peace in the wizarding world would be short lived. He returned his thoughts to the here and now and took a deep breath.  
  
"Well, if he was here, he most certainly is not here now. After the guests leave, I will reinforce the security wards and he will not be able to return. I'll contact the Aurors and step up surveillance on Narcissa and the other Malfoy properties. I'll take the evidence we have and try and make a case for a search warrant with the ministry. But I want your word that you will not try and handle this on your own, am I clear with that?"  
  
The professor narrowed his eyes and breathed an exasperated sigh.  
  
"I gave my word. I said I won't go after him on my own, and my word is good."  
  
"But you would have fought a duel with him?"  
  
"He came to me. I didn't go after him tonight, he came to me. Yes, I would have fought a duel with him. And in the condition he's in, I would have destroyed him."  
  
"And it would have been unfortunate if you had. Don't let emotion cloud your reason. We do need to apprehend him. But we need him brought in alive and fit to be interrogated. Whatever he and his wife have been up to, it's not been simple mischief making. I fear they may be planning something, which could lead to devastating consequences. We have to be very careful how we handle this. Narcissa is no fool; she still has many people in the ministry who are loyal to her family name. Let me handle it right now. I'll find out what I can, and we'll make plans for action when we know exactly what we're dealing with."  
  
"As you wish headmaster."  
  
"Now, let's try and enjoy the end of the ball, shall we? Minerva, I promise to bring you up to date concerning the Malfoys over a late breakfast in my office."  
  
The professor nodded to the older witch and wizard, and walked to the edge of the dance floor, to wait for Mira to finish her dance with Hagrid. Dumbledore patted McGonagall on the hand and waved for a house-elf, which was carrying a tray of strong drinks. The deputy headmistress would need one after the shock of hearing that Lucius Malfoy was alive and up to his old tricks.  
  
The set of partnered dances ended and the professor wound his way through the crowd to Mira and Hagrid. Hagrid thanked Mira for the dance, and took his leave. With the evening coming to an end, Mira asked the professor if he wanted to dance. She noticed that the professor didn't balk, but agreed to dance with her without any fuss or sarcasm. They danced the first dance in the last set of three together, and old Mr. Comstock approached the couple and asked if he might share the next dance with Mira.  
  
The ancient wizard explained to her that he had been a friend of her grandfather's and recognized Eloise's fancy dress robe and the family resemblance between Mira and her grandmother which had brought back a fond memory of a masquerade ball held many decades earlier. He asked about Eloise, and Mira made him promise to send her grandmother a letter. The song ended, and the old man escorted her off of the dance floor and handed her back off to the professor thanking him for the pleasure of having a dance with her.  
  
The whole custom of men asking other men permission to dance with women was somewhat irritating to Mira, but in another way it was also a little bit charming. The bandleader announced the last dance of the evening, and the professor took Mira by the hand without her having to ask and led her to the center of the dance floor. She didn't know if he was actually enjoying himself, or just putting on a good show. And decided that she really didn't care. 


	62. Back to Business

Author's Notes: A shortish little chapter. Back to school, back to work, but not back to the same old routines.  
  
Disclaimer: If you recognize it from the books or movies, it is not of my creation.  
  
Chapter 62: Back to Business  
  
The next morning, Deputy Headmistress McGonagall met with Dumbledore, and was briefed on the activities of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy. However, a sense of honor prevented the Headmaster from describing the perverse nature of their crimes in embarrassing detail. Some details were best kept to those who were directly involved, and given out only on a need to know basis. And at the time, there was no legitimate reason why the Deputy Headmistress needed to know exactly how the Malfoys had victimized the Potions Master and his lady friend. Unsettled, McGonagall returned to her classroom to ponder the new developments, and what they could possibly mean.  
  
After lunch, Dumbledore met with a contingency of highly skilled and experienced Aurors. Again, he related only that information which was necessary to organize a mission of covert surveillance to try and track down Lucius Malfoy. None of the Aurors seemed particularly surprised by the fact that the dark wizard had been spotted and was up to his old tricks. Suspicious by nature, they all remembered the fact that Malfoy's corpse was never accounted for, and never quite believed that he was gone for good.  
  
The meetings finished, Dumbledore took a moment to write Sirius Black; informing him of a credible report of Lucius Malfoy being spotted alive and up to no good. He suggested that during the remaining days of the Winter holidays, Sirius should keep a watchful eye on Harry just to be safe. The dreams the boy was having might or might not be related to Malfoy's return; but until more information was gathered, it would be best to err on the side of caution. Harry was quite unhappy with the sudden loss of independence. He felt as if he were being babied and didn't take kindly to Sirius' suggestion that he spend his days at the Ministry while his godfather worked at his new job. After an evening of quarreling they reached a compromise. Harry would not go to work with Sirius, but would instead spend the day at the Burrow with Ron, where Molly could keep a watchful eye out for him.  
  
Professor Snape kept himself occupied with preparations for the new term, and obeyed the Headmaster's order not to try and hunt down Malfoy on his own. He wasn't pleased to be stuck at the castle while the Aurors carried out their surveillance and he made his displeasure known. He would have sworn on his life that Lucius was holed up at the country estate Narcissa was believed to have retreated to. But, without grounds for a warrant, the Ministry would never allow the Aurors to stage a raid. Even with their ties to dark wizardry, the Malfoy family name carried clout in the Ministry.  
  
Mira spent the days immediately following the ball helping Professor Sprout transplant seedlings in the greenhouses, and occasionally helping Professor Snape with less distasteful Potionmaking tasks. They were lazy quiet days of busywork and simple companionship. While enjoying her vacation from duties as shopkeeper, Mira was anxious for the new term to begin so that she could return to familiar routines.  
  
Two days before the students were set to return, Dumbledore called Mira and the professor into his office. He expressed concern over her returning to Hogsmeade while Lucius Malfoy was still at large. Outraged, and rightfully so, Mira argued her case to be allowed to return home and back to her normal life. Snape wouldn't hear of it, he didn't want her setting foot off the castle grounds, and Dumbledore voiced his agreement. After a few minutes of female histrionics over being held prisoner in the school and not allowing any dark wizard to run her out of her own home, Mira succeeded in reaching a compromise with her protectors.  
  
She would return to work at the shop, but never alone, always with an assistant. And she would not live above the shop until Malfoy was captured and whatever threat he posed to her was neutralized. Professor Snape petitioned Dumbledore to open a one-way floo connection between the tailor shop and Mira's guest room, but the old wizard refused. It would be a weak spot in the school's elaborate security network. And, after the term began, a strange woman walking the halls every morning and night between the Headmaster's office and guest wing would incite gossip and could be construed as improper by more traditional and conservative wizarding families. The best thing would be for Mira to move in with her cousin and simply travel to and from the tailor shop. As a consolation gesture, Dumbledore said that he would devise a rotation schedule among the heads of houses, so that they were all allowed some personal time away from the school, if they should choose to take it. That way, the couple would be spared the indignity of stealing away for stolen hours together like a pair of married lovers arranging forbidden trysts.  
  
Mira's last day at Hogwarts was particularly stressful. Between Professor Snape's very vocal disagreement with her choice to return to work at the shop, and the other faculty members rushing about making last minute preparations, she stayed close to her room, taking her time packing her belongings, refusing the assistance of the house-elves. To add insult to injury, her cousin seemed to lack enthusiasm over the new living arrangements. While Susan and Albert would bend over backwards for Dumbledore, in order to keep in good graces; they were hesitant to allow their poor relation into their home considering her uncanny knack for attracting trouble, including attracting men reputed to be involved in dark wizardry.  
  
That evening, Professor Snape escorted her to Hogsmeade, so that she could take care of some business at the tailor shop. After making peace with the neglected shop-owl, Mira went upstairs to pack a few things. While she went about her business, the professor reinforced the security wards and charms protecting the building. Once finished, took her on through the floo network to her cousin's home just outside of London. Susan, Albert, and the old housemaid were all standing in the formal parlor to meet them. While painfully polite, Mira couldn't help but notice that they all three kept stealing glances at the Potions Master, as if they expected him to whip out his wand and start cursing everything in sight. After declining an offer to stay for supper, explaining that he had a trainload of students to prepare for, Professor Snape gave Mira a chaste kiss on the cheek and stepped into the floo fire which would take him straight to the Headmaster's office.  
  
Harry slept in Sunday morning. He wouldn't need to catch a train; Sirius would simply walk with him to the train station, or hire a carriage to pick them up at the millwright's cabin. He took his time packing his school trunk and coaxing Hedwig into her cage. Ron would arrive shortly after lunchtime, and they would all three go to the train station to meet Hermione when the Hogwarts Express came in. While he was sorting through a pile of books and magazines, deciding which ones to take to school with him, Sirius knocked softly on Harry's door. Molly had just spoken with him over the fire, and Ron would be arriving shortly. Harry stacked the old Quidditch magazines and adventure novels on his little desk and put the ones he wanted to take to school into his trunk. Ron burst through the door without knocking, dressed in his uniform shirt and trousers, tie untied and looped around his neck like a scarf.  
  
"Oy! Harry! You ready to leave? Sirius said that if we hurry, we'll have time to stop in the pub before the train makes it to the station."  
  
Harry decided that a bottle of butterbeer sounded brilliant, and grabbed his cloak. While still not allowed to use much magic out of school, the boys let Sirius shrink their trunks to the size of matchboxes, so that they could carry them in their pockets. The owls, however, would remain their normal size. After stashing the owl cages and the re-enlarged trunks in the train station office, the trio walked over to the Three Broomsticks Pub for a round of drinks. Butterbeer for the two boys, a tankard of ale for Sirius.  
  
While the boys sat at a table by the window, they saw some of their classmates trickle in towards the station. Not all students at Hogwarts took the express train to Hogsmeade. Many of the students lived in or around the wizarding settlement. And those, like Ron, had come in early to visit with friends before reporting in at the school. A clanging bell signaled the arrival of the Hogwarts Express. The boys gulped down the last of their drink, and Sirius tossed a few coins onto the bar, and followed them out the door. They had just retrieved their belongings from the conductor's office when Hermione clambered off of the train, Crookshanks the cat in his wicker travel basket.  
  
Hermione gave Harry and Sirius warm hugs, and still conflicted about Ron, gave him a quick friendly hug with a pat on the back. After seeing them to the horseless carriages, which would transport them across the bridge and to the school grounds, Sirius bid them farewell and returned to the pub. Being the end of Winter holidays, and not the start of a new year, there would be no sorting ceremony. Students were to report to their dormitories and then make their way down to the great hall for the welcome back feast.  
  
As the students trickled into the dining hall, they wandered around, greeting friends from other houses, before settling in at their own house tables. When all were assembled, Headmaster Dumbledore rose to make his usual start of term announcements. Business taken care of, the students tucked into a splendid meal. Harry chatted with his friends, and looked around the room to see the familiar faces. The professors seemed all to be present and accounted for. Mercifully the welcome back feast wasn't a formal enough occasion to warrant their stuffy academic robes. Harry saw that Professor Sprout was chatting amicably with Flitwick, but McGonagall had a somewhat pursed look on her face as she sliced her roast beef into precise little pieces. Professor Snape seemed to be in a particularly foul mood. He had pushed his plate away and was sitting with his arms crossed, occasionally taking a sip from his goblet, and trying his best to ignore Hagrid's attempts to engage him in conversation.  
  
Harry cringed inwardly, knowing full well that once the Potions Master was in a particularly foul mood, he was likely to remain that way for some time. And he was scheduled for double Potions on Tuesday.  
  
"Great" he said under his breath, and reached for the gravy.  
  
After the welcome back feast, Harry, Ron, and Hermione found a secluded corner of the Gryffindor common room where they could talk in private, without fear of being overheard. Harry told Hermione all about the note Sirius received from Dumbledore, warning him that Lucius Malfoy was not dead, and was believed to be at large and up to no good. Ron didn't believe it. He thought that somebody probably saw a wizard who looked like Malfoy, and panicked and now Dumbledore and the Aurors were getting all worked up for nothing.  
  
Hermione was more willing to believe that Malfoy was indeed alive and still involved in dark magic. After all, she reminded the boys. Nobody had seen his body. He was last seen dying, but not dead. Harry didn't know what to believe. Either way, he was very upset at having his freedom curtailed because of a Death Eater who may or may not be alive and on the loose. With classes starting early in the morning, the trio decided to make an early night of it, and retired to their respective dormitories. 


	63. The Awakening

Author's Notes: After a very long wait, here is another chapter. The story is winding down, and I will finish it before re-writing.  
  
Disclaimers: Nothing you recognize from the books or movies belongs to me, or is any way is implied to be my creation.  
  
Chapter 63: The Awakening  
  
Day after day, Narcissa Malfoy's unborn child developed at an unnaturally rapid pace. An unlicensed healing wizard mixed and administered the development acceleration potion to her in a highly concentrated dose. Under ordinary circumstances, such intervention would never be attempted. Continued use of the potion left the child physically frail. But, these were not ordinary circumstances. If the plan to transfer Lord Voldemort's disembodied spirit into the fetus was to succeed, the ceremony would have to be performed during a very narrow window of opportunity when the planets were aligned just so. The pregnancy had to be at the halfway point or the child would be lost. As long as Narcissa took the potion as directed, she and the baby would be ready in two nights' time.  
  
With the child inside her womb growing so rapidly, Narcissa spent most of her days confined to bed. The healer provided her with a special ointment to help her skin expand to accommodate the rapid growth of her belly, but there were no potions to safely dull the emotional extremes caused by the flood of hormones through her body. The healer allowed her a minimal dose of relaxing drops, but no wine to wash it down with. Lucius avoided her histrionics by traveling the country, seeking out surviving Death Eaters and Voldemort sympathizers. The majority of Death Eaters who had avoided capture or death were not terribly happy to see him. They had simply gone on with their lives as if they had never been involved with the Dark Lord, and their neighbors were none the wiser. While a few were eager to hear more about the plan to resurrect their master, most wanted nothing to do with it and sent Lucius on his way. And hoped to Merlin that nobody had seen a rather sinister looking portcarriage apparate to their houses. As Lucius left the homes of those who would not hear his message, he warned them that no leniency would be given when they again felt the burning of the Mark.  
  
Some dismissed him as a lunatic. Convinced that he took one too many curses in battle. Others nervously rubbed their arms and hoped that he was in fact a lunatic, as the alternative was too horrific to dwell on. Those who remained loyal counted the days until the re-embodiment of the Dark Lord would come of age and show those who lived within a fragile illusion of peace, that not even death itself could bring an end to his plans for domination of the wizarding world.  
  
The Aurors sent to keep an eye on the Malfoy country estate noted the coming and going of a black portcarriage with covered windows. The occupant always embarked and disembarked while concealed in a long hooded black cloak. While anybody could have been traveling to and from the estate under that cloak, it did confirm that it was being used as an active residence. Spotters identified the operator of the portcarriage as Malfoy's groundskeeper. The old witch who served as cook and housekeeper was spotted around the house as well. Agents working in Hogsmeade and on Knockturn Alley reported seeing Narcissa's handmaiden and Lucius' valet being ferried to and from various business establishments, including a rather shady apothecary known to supply unlicensed healers.  
  
Suspicions that Narcissa was in residence at the estate were confirmed when she was spotted sitting at a window, looking out on the countryside. There had also been rumors circulating around the taverns where dark wizards were known to visit. Rumors that Lucius Malfoy was alive and working on rounding up the old crowd for some kind of Death Eater re- emergence. Of course rumors about Death Eaters and even Voldemort being sighted had been circulating all along, but these were circulating among witches and wizards who were aligned with dark magic. And that made the rumors something worth checking into.  
  
While the Ministry Aurors were hard at work, most of the students and faculty at Hogwarts were completely unaware that anything unusual was going on in the wizarding world. Only the Headmaster, Deputy Headmistress, and a select few others knew of the developments concerning Lucius Malfoy.  
  
The spring term just getting underway, Ron, Harry, and Hermione were settling into their normal routines. The first Monday back at Hogwarts had gone well, but all three left their Tuesday Potions class in a bad mood. The assignment had been particularly difficult and none of the students, not even Hermione, had managed to concoct an effective brew. Professor Snape seemed to take a particularly sadistic bit of pleasure in gloating over the fact that Hermione Granger finally encountered a potion that she couldn't master on the first try. While the boys went off to Quidditch practice, Hermione sequestered herself away in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom where she kept her secret stash of potionmaking supplies, and tried the complex formula again, determined to get it right before Potions class met again.  
  
Mirabelle DelMare received a chilly reception at her cousin's breakfast table. Susan felt put upon for being asked by Dumbledore to provide her cousin refuge from her scandalously complicated life. In Susan and Albert's eyes, Mira simply mixed with the wrong kind of wizarding folk, and brought these encounters with dark wizards upon herself. They didn't approve of her folksy working class manners and certainly didn't approve of her love affair with the notorious Potions Master of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Even though the man was highly thought of by the mighty Albus Dumbledore, people still talked. And the gossip was that he had been deeply involved with You-Know-Who before defecting to the winning side. Albert wasn't terribly thrilled with the new living arrangements either, but felt that he couldn't refuse Dumbledore without harming his reputation among the wizarding world elite. Feeling sorry for herself, Mira excused herself from the table and went through the floo network to the tailor shop without any breakfast. Her first attempt to override the new security wards failed, and she was bounced right back through the floo network into her cousin's parlor. Cursing under her breath, she tried once more and made it on through.  
  
She hated the security wards, she hated staying with her cousin, and she hated being a moving target. All Mirabelle DelMare wanted was to be left alone and allowed to live the life she had created for herself in peace. All the protective attentions given to her were affronts to her fiercely independent nature, and she found it to be quite oppressive.  
  
Between dealing with his students, and dealing with Mira's insolence, Professor Snape had precious little patience remaining to deal with the liquidation of his family estate. His attorney in Diagon Alley had managed to find a loophole in the clause binding him to his family home, and it had been sold to a distant relation for mere Sickles per acre. Relieved of the burden of a ruin of a home, which housed only bad memories; the professor moved forward in his plans for a home away from Hogwarts. He nearly drove a housing broker to drink with his extremely specific security requirements. But, in the end, two homes meeting his needs were found in Diagon Alley.  
  
The first building was nearly as ancient as Diagon Alley itself. At some point in history, it had served as the gatehouse for a medieval estate once situated on the boundary between Wizarding and Muggle London. It was imposing, cold, and dungeon-like. Naturally, Professor Snape loved it and had to be convinced to even look at photographs and blueprints of the second possibility. The second building at one time had been a watchtower of some kind and was tall and narrow with a winding staircase leading to a large main floor, which had heavily barred windows on all sides. In the end, the professor chose the latter, feeling that the slight elevation above other buildings in the area would give an advantage when watching for trouble.  
  
Professor Snape made plans to supervise the renovation of the watchtower into living quarters during his first weekend away from Hogwarts, per Dumbledore's new household head rotation schedule. He wasn't terribly upset to have to wait a week for his turn, as he felt that some of the upper year Slytherins needed a firm reminder of just how their house was run. If he didn't show them who was boss during their first weekend back at Hogwarts, the household head taking on his charges during his weekend off wouldn't stand a chance with them.  
  
As the first week of the spring term ended, the planets came into a rare and ominous alignment. It was a time when dark magic would be amplified and when dark witches and wizards performed unspeakable rituals and spells. Most of the professors and many of the students were on edge. Security wards and protective talismans were checked and reinforced. Defensive charms and counterspells were practiced just in case. At sundown on the eve of the night of the alignment, the school was locked down tight and all household heads were assigned to walking the halls. Mira was ordered by both Dumbledore and the professor to stay in her cousin's house, and cast every single one of the protective wards they had taught her.  
  
The Aurors who were carrying out surveillance on the Malfoy country estate, were ordered to fall back to a safe distance, and continue their watch with extreme caution. They noticed a series of private portcarriages with privacy draperies apparate to and disapparate from the servants' entrance. All the occupants were cloaked and hooded. The Aurors could sense the dark magic building up in the air, and settled into their waiting game.  
  
After the sun went down, Narcissa Malfoy was visited one last time by the healer, who administered a series of potions, which would open her womb to spiritual energy and prepare the unborn child for acceptance of Lord Voldemort's disembodied spirit. Nervously, she paced her bedchamber, listening to the voices of the former Death Eaters who were arriving to witness the ritual and convincing herself that the risk to her child was worth the outcome if all went as planned. At half past eleven, Lucius came to fetch her and lead her down to the basement dungeon, where the ritual would take place. She entered the dungeon and saw a dozen or more heavily cloaked and hooded figures, standing around the edges of the chamber, barely visible in the flickering torchlight. In the center of the room was a large chair, not unlike a throne. Lucius escorted her to the chair, and gestured for her to sit. As the clock chimed the quarter hour, a hush came over the room, and two cloaked figures walked from the crowd to take their places on either side of the throne. Lucius walked the perimeter of the dungeon, explaining to the gathered wizards how he survived the battle, and how Lord Voldemort's spirit had come to him in dreams and inspired this plan.  
  
As he explained the plan, there were scattered gasps and mutterings. Narcissa had become pregnant, and the pregnancy was manipulated with potions to reach the half-point on the night of the planetary alignment. Shortly, a ritual would take place, which would summon the spirit of Voldemort and allow it to enter into the unborn child carried in Narcissa's womb. If the child survived the ritual, the pregnancy would be accelerated and the reincarnation of Lord Voldemort would be born by the end of the year. Development accelerating potions would continue to be administered to the child on a regular basis, so that it would come of age in just a few years, and then the conquering of the entire Wizarding as well as the Muggle world would begin. Most wizarding folk believed that the Dark Lord was gone for good because that was what they needed to believe. They would be caught off guard and victory would be swift.  
  
The midnight hour drew near, and Lucius wrapped up his speech. The two wizards who were standing beside the throne began the ritual. An incense censer was lit and intoxicating pungent smoke began to fill the room. One wizard began to chant an incantation in an ancient language while the other took his wand and made intricate tracing motions through the smoke rising from the smoldering resin. Even though the room was underground and had no windows or ventilation shafts, a frigid breeze began to stir in the corners and build into a swirling mist, which caused the torches to flicker and sputter. There were a few gasps and a frightened whimper or two as the spirit of Voldemort began to gain strength and cohesion. The clock began to sound the hour and the mist formed into a swirling vortex hovering over Narcissa's swollen belly. As it swirled, it began to glow and make a howling noise. One of the cloaked observers fell to his knees, followed one at a time by the others until the only people standing were Lucius and the two wizards performing the ritual. The glow of the spirit vortex was so bright that Lucius half turned away and shielded his eyes. The chanting wizard's voice rose to match the howling, and the gesturing wizard began to swirl his wand around the vortex as if he were stirring a cauldron.  
  
As the clock struck the twelfth chime, the gesturing wizard brought his wand down onto Narcissa's belly and the vortex plunged through her robe, into her flesh, making her jerk her head back and let loose with an unearthly howling scream. At once, all of the gathered Death Eaters, including Lucius Malfoy gasped in pain and clutched their forearms, where they had been branded with the dark mark. The marks sprang to life with an eerie green glow that faded to inky black. While the gathered crowd realized what had happened and started talking amongst themselves in agitated low whispers, Narcissa's arms went limp and her head lolled to one side. The two wizards who had performed the ritual carried her out of the dungeon chamber and back up the stairs to her bedchamber, where the healer was waiting. Lucius followed closely behind, and saw the faint trickle of blood, which wound its way down Narcissa's pale leg. Fearing the child was lost, Lucius burst into the bedchamber behind Narcissa's entourage and watched from the corner, while the other wizards worked on his wife.  
  
As the midnight hour approached at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the heads of household patrolled the corridors and Hagrid patrolled the exterior grounds of the school. All was quiet, which was a good sign. The students were all in their dormitories and hopefully sleeping soundly. While he hated such deceptive measures, Dumbledore had allowed the school nurse to slip a very mild sleeping draught into the pitchers of pumpkin juice served at supper. With so many anxious students, it seemed the only way to ensure a quiet night.  
  
Professor Snape had just finished checking in on the Slytherin dormitories and was walking back up the stairs from the dungeons when the clock struck midnight. He felt a spasm of searing pain in his forearm and stumbled on the stairwell, barely catching himself. He looked down and watched as his flesh darkened to an angry red and then started to fade. The realization that something was very wrong hit him like a kick in the gut, and the panicked scream that pierced the night made his blood run cold. The scream was coming from Gryffindor Tower. And Potter was in Gryffindor Tower.  
  
Harry tossed and turned in his lightly drugged sleep. Dreaming the same nightmare of a baby crying somewhere in a maze of corridors and rooms. In the dream, he ran through the corridors, as portraits of people he vaguely recognized laughed at and taunted him. He finally found the source of the crying. A black room with a large black cauldron, which held a swaddled bundle of squirming cloth. In the dream, Harry began to uncover the cloth from the crying baby, and even though he knew what he would see, he couldn't stop his dream self from removing the last bit of cloth. This time, however, the face was different. At the moment his dream self uncovered the last layer of cloth to expose the face of the baby in the cauldron, Harry realized that the face in his dream was the last thing his mother and father had seen before they died. His scar erupted in a white- hot blaze of pain, and Harry screamed a scream that seemed to emanate from his very soul.  
  
After a tense supper with her cousin, Mira retired early, and made use of the sleeping draught the Potions Master had owled over to her before she closed up the tailor shop for the evening. If she would not come to Hogwarts for the night, he intended on ensuring that she slept dreamlessly and soundly until morning. Even though the dreamless sleep potion had the desired effect, she woke with a start at midnight and felt a cold chill in the room. After pulling the spare blanket up around her chin, she fell back into an uneasy but dreamless sleep.  
  
All around the Wizarding world, animals grew nervous, and people woke with a start. Most brushed it off as planetary alignment jitters. But a few took it as the portent it was, and sat up the rest of the night, wondering what exactly had happened to upset the balance of their world. 


	64. Planetary Alignment

Author's Notes: Wow! Has it really been that long since I posted an update? Life just sort of happened, and time got away with me, and days turned into weeks, and then to months. The story is close to completion, and no matter how long it takes me, I will finish it and not leave readers hanging.

I apologize to all who have waited so patiently for an update.

Chapter 64: Planetary Alignment

Hogwarts exploded with anxious chatter as students woke and the adults hurried towards Gryffindor Tower. They found Harry Potter, lying tangled in his sheets, delirious with fever. His scar was inflamed and raw like a fresh wound. He was whisked away to the hospital ward, and Madam Pomfrey set about lowering his fever. The Headmaster sent the heads of household to tend their students and resume their patrols. Once all of his students were administered a calming draught and sent back to bed, Professor Snape locked the dormitory door behind him and set out to find Headmaster Dumbledore.

He found the old wizard standing outside the hospital wing, absentmindedly twining his beard between his long thin fingers.

"It's Potter, isn't it?"

Dumbledore looked up, his eyes revealing a complex emotional state, and gestured for the professor to follow him into the ward. He walked to the bed where Harry lay, and smoothed the damp hair off of the boy's forehead.

"He's sleeping peacefully now. Poppy managed to bring the fever down, and he shouldn't have any lasting effects from it. He never truly woke up, but kept mumbling: "Not dead anymore" over and over again."

Professor Snape watched Harry for a moment and then turned to the headmaster.

"Something happened to me in the dungeons, which must be connected to Harry's night terror. We have to talk, but not here in the open."

Dumbledore nodded and folded his robe around himself and led the Potions Master up to his chambers. He started a fire in the fireplace, and poured two tall goblets of brandy. Dumbledore listened as the professor described the pain in his arm, followed by the brief inflammation where his dark mark had once been. The headmaster took in the information and assured the potions master that an elite group of veteran aurors was watching the Malfoy estate, and keeping him informed of every development. Until more was learned, the professor was to go about his normal routine and leave the investigation to Dumbledore and the aurors.

At midnight, the aurors working surveillance on the Malfoy estate felt a rush of dark magic sweep out from the manor house. Within seconds, cloaked figures stumbled out from the back entrance and began to disapparate as soon as they reached the garden. None of them bothered to summon their portcarriages. Something frightened them and put them on the run, and the aurors all agreed that it had to be very bad. After a quick discussion amongst themselves, they decided that it was time to pull a raid on Malfoy Manor. In the confusion, nobody had re-activated the security wards and the Aurors were able to charge in without any impediments.

They found no Death Eaters in the house. Just Narcissa Malfoy, her handmaiden, the cook, the groundskeeper, and a healing wizard. To their deep chagrin, the Aurors were informed that Lady Malfoy was experiencing a troubled pregnancy, and their unwarranted harassment could very well cost her the baby. Narcissa and her servants stood by the story that she was awakened at midnight with a pain in her belly, and fearing a miscarriage, she summoned a healer to her home. There were no cloaked wizards in the vicinity save the Aurors themselves, who were lurking in the woods, harassing a sick pregnant woman. With vehement threats of lodging a complaint of harassment with the ministry, the Aurors had no choice but to leave empty handed. Given the level of clout still carried by the Malfoy name within the wizarding world, the Aurors were recalled to the Ministry of Magic at dawn for an inquiry, giving Lucius a chance to slip back into the house undetected.

While it was a close call, Narcissa did not miscarry. Her womb was strong, and the pregnancy sound. The child survived the transfer of Voldemort's spirit, and would be born before winter's end. It was decided that with aurors snooping around the country estate, the household would relocate to a secret flat Lucius kept in Knockturn Alley. Flat was a misnomer. In reality, the secret residence took up the entire upper level of a large building, which housed several shops at street level. After delivering the Malfoys and their personal servants to their new hideaway, the groundskeeper returned to the country estate where he and the cook would remain until further notice.

Following an embarrassing public inquiry regarding the reported stalking and harassment of Narcissa Malfoy, the team of aurors was reprimanded and forced to carry out their investigation in deep secrecy. They were instructed to act if and only if they spotted Lucius himself. Narcissa was to be left alone. The word of her pregnancy took the gossips of the Wizarding world by storm. Could she really be carrying the child of her dead husband? Had she remarried or taken a lover? With pregnancy altering potions, it was indeed possible to slow down and speed up gestation to a more convenient timeframe, but most knew the risks of such tampering. After the botched raid, Narcissa had seemingly disapparated into thin air. Not even the sharpest gossipmongers had information on where she had gone. The consensus was that she had fled to her ancient family lands, where she had sent her son, Draco, to live.

Albus Dumbledore had spent sleepless nights going over the list of facts gathered about the recent incidents in the Wizarding world. He had a very good idea of what Narcissa and Lucius had attempted the night of the planetary alignment. But had they succeeded? That he could not determine. It all hinged on whether Narcissa's pregnancy would come to term. The couple was playing with tremendously dark and complicated magic and there was no way to predict the outcome.

Dumbledore wasn't sure how much his Potions Master had figured out on his own. The Headmaster reminded the professor that he was not to attempt to root out the Malfoys on his own, and made him pledge his word that he would not go looking for them when he made use of his weekends away from the school. After a few terse words about being left out of the search, he did give his word, albeit begrudgingly.

But, Dumbledore needed only to ask the students for their opinion on the professor's recent mood to figure out that something was troubling him deeply. Tensions were so high in the Advanced Potionmaking class that an argument over which lab partner botched the brew degenerated into a hexing match between two Slytherin girls. Which, to the groans and complaints of the class, resulted in extra homework for all. Harry and Ron both wondered why on Earth they had let Hermione talk them into signing up for the class. Who in their right mind would come back for more potions lessons after completing the basic requirements?

The incident at the beginning of the term brought the three friends back together. Ron, Harry, and Hermione seemed to forget the tensions and complications that strained their friendship. Everybody was on edge, not just because of Harry's nightmares, but because there was a general feeling of unease in the air. The conservative wizarding press refused to publish any speculations about dark magic reports. But, people all over wizarding Britain spoke in hushed voices about seeing evidence of dark magic or hearing of Death Eaters coming out of hiding. Even the seers were starting to speak openly about dark omens in teacups, cards, and crystal balls.

Professor Snape's first weekend away from Hogwarts had been spent renovating his new home away from home. At first, Mira was appalled at his choice but figured that a tower was better than a dungeon; at least it had windows and light. And really, it only rose a little bit above the neighboring buildings. It wasn't as if the place stood out like a beacon. The renovation proved to be tonic for both of their souls. Mira got to spend some time away from her cousin's home and the tailor shop, and the professor had something to take his mind off of the Malfoys.

The living area of the tower was a large rectangle approximately twenty feet wide by thirty feet long. A brick wall nearly bisected the open space, connecting both halves with a large arched opening. Wooden panel walls further separated the space into functional rooms. At one time it had held a small faction of pre-Auror warrior wizards who stood watch over the area. The largest room served as a barracks, the next largest served as a storeroom, and the two smaller rooms served as a kitchen and bathroom. With only minor renovations and modernizations, the watchtower was transformed into a spacious flat. A staircase wound its way in a tall spiral up the central core of the building, and chimneys secured with iron grates vented smoke away from the four large fireplaces. There was only one obvious way in and out of the tower; a pair of massive wooden doors hung with heavy iron straps. It was solid and secure, and the professor felt almost as safe there as in his dungeon quarters back at Hogwarts.

Aside from the few heirloom pieces of furniture and chest of household goods kept in storage in his vault at Gringott's, the professor had nothing to outfit his weekend home with. He adamantly refused to let Mira wander Diagon Alley alone, and insisted that he simply did not have the time to accompany her on the errand. Instead, he sent a firetalking message to a local furniture dealer who arrived early in the afternoon with a leather case in his hand. Mira sat fascinated at the makeshift worktable, while the merchant wizard removed what looked like dollhouse furniture from compartments in his case. She mistakenly believed them to be sample goods, and was taken by surprise when the professor picked out several pieces from the collection, and paid the man in gold coins. After the merchant bid them both a good day, the professor went from room to room, situating the miniature pieces of furniture and then re-sizing them to their natural size.

"How else would a wizarding furniture salesman do it?" She remarked to herself, stepping out of the way so that the professor could work.

As the weekend drew to a close, the professor stood back and evaluated his handiwork. The tower was as secure as he could make it. Only a massive onslaught would be able to penetrate the layers of security wards. And after that, there were always the booby traps set to snare anybody clever enough to actually make it into the building. And just in case, there was always the hidden trapdoor in the ceiling of the kitchen storeroom that led to the roof and an easy escape by broomstick.

While Mira dismissed his preoccupation with security as a touch of paranoia, the professor took the omens and portents of dark magic very seriously. He'd decided not to tell her about the fleeting stab of pain in his arm, where the dark mark had once been. She was already upset about the limits imposed upon her freedom, and the professor saw no reason to upset her further. When whatever was in the works actually came to pass, he would make sure she was brought to safety. Until then, he was content to enjoy his first steps towards independence, even if it was only for two days out of the month.

Not far from the ancient watchtower, Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy spent their days cloistered away in a secret flat in the heart of Knockturn Alley. At night, when the healer came to administer potions to his wife, and monitor her pregnancy, Lucius put on his hooded cloak and visited the back alley pubs where former Death Eaters were known to congregate. Even those who dismissed him as a madman took him seriously those days. All had felt the burning of the mark, all had felt a connection with their master the moment his spirit entered the body of Narcissa's unborn child.

Lucius explained his plan to all who would hear him. The child would be born soon, and with the extensive use of age accelerating potions and by sheer force of the Dark Lord's will, he would develop in a mere fraction of the time it took a normal child to grow from infancy to adolescence. It was Lucius' job to gather all of the remaining Death Eaters together and recruit Voldemort sympathizers into a new army of wizards who would stage a coup on the wizarding world as soon as the child came of age. In the meanwhile, they were to bide their time and remain underground. In order for the plan to go off without a hitch, the uprising must come as a total surprise. That meant, no muggle-baiting, and no public use of dark magic.


End file.
